A Better Future
by Lia06
Summary: Charles Brandon, a widower with three young children, marries sixteen-year-old Mary Tudor shortly before her father declares his marriage to her mother invalid. What began as a marriage of convenience gradually turns into something else.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: _The Tudors_ are not mine; its characters are merely my toys. The idea of Charles Brandon and Mary Tudor is growing on me.

I'm mixing history and fiction here. Charles Brandon and Mary, the Dowager Queen of France had three children-Eleanor, Frances, and Henry-together. These are now the children of Charles and Princess Margaret. Margaret has, in my story, been dead for about a year and died giving birth to Henry in 1531. So little Henry Brandon is about a year old, Frances is two and a half, and Eleanor is four. Yes, they are Mary's cousins and will also be her stepchildren, but if you bear with me, I think you'll see that it works.

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Title: A Better Future **

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August 1532**

Charles Brandon had never intended to marry Princess Mary; she was sixteen and he was just past thirty. She was innocent and he was a widower with three children and a reputation as a womanizer. It wasn't exactly an ideal match. But when Henry told him that he was planning to marry his young daughter off to George Boleyn "to take care of her," Charles had to object.

"Henry, you cannot do that. George Boleyn would crush her. He will take away all of her freedom and he'll destroy her." Admittedly, Charles hadn't seen Princess Mary in several years but he remembered her from her childhood. When she was a little girl, he had played with her, chasing her around castles and spinning her around in the air. He remembered the little girl who had pushed the French Dauphin over for wiping off her kiss. Henry had laughed at her spirit then, but now he was willing to sell his daughter away to make sure that she wasn't a problem.

"What do you want to do then, Charles?" Henry asked snidely. "Will you marry my bastard daughter? You, Charles Brandon, would you marry her? Or do you know someone else who would marry a king's bastard?"

He knew what Margaret would tell him to do. She loved her niece and she decidedly did not approve of her brother's relationship with Anne Boleyn. And so he would do what his deceased wife would want. "I'll marry her-with your permission, of course."

Henry laughed. "Take her. Katherine wants to see Mary married and I hope that if I marry her off to someone, the mother will then consent to my demands."

Charles somehow doubted that this would occur, but he refused to see his former niece married off to someone like George Boleyn. "I will marry Your Majesty's daughter and take her to my home."

"And keep her there," Henry muttered darkly.

Charles chose to ignore that remark. He simply wanted to protect his deceased wife's beloved niece from her father's greed.

* * *

"You are going to marry my Mary," Queen Katherine said when Charles walked into her chambers the next day.

He nodded. "I will be leaving tomorrow for Ludlow and I will marry her there."

"Tell her that I love her and I wish you both the best," the queen told him. "And tell her that I wish I could be there for her wedding."

"As do I, Your Majesty," the Duke of Suffolk said softly. "I genuinely wish that you could be at our wedding and see your daughter happy. I only wish that I can make your daughter as happy as she deserves."

"Please keep her away from court, Charles. I do not trust Henry with our daughter anymore and I want to protect my Mary."

The duke started at the use of his first name, but nodded. "Of course, I intend to allow her to live a peaceful, private life at Suffolk Manor. My children are there." Eleanor, Frances, and Henry were all under the age of five and they would profit well from the influence of a mother figure.

"And will my Mary have children as well?"

"I hope so." Charles was not entirely sure how those children-particularly any sons they might have-would affect the succession of the Crown, but he did desire to have children with his promised wife. He loved the three children he already had and wanted more.

"Will you give her something from me, please?"

"If you wish, I will come here before I leave tomorrow. If you want to send your daughter a letter or a gift, I will gladly take them."

Katherine smiled. "You are a good man, Charles Brandon, and I trust you with my beloved daughter."

"I only pray that I will be worthy of Your Majesty's trust," he replied.

The queen rose from her seat and pressed her lips gently against Charles's cheek. "I have great faith in you."

* * *

But Charles was not entirely sure that he had faith in himself to be the sort of husband that the princess deserved. He knew that marriages between men of his age and women of hers were far from uncommon, but he was still unsettled. It wasn't that she was a princess; he had married a princess before. But that was different. He had married Margaret out of love. Now, he was marrying Mary to protect her. And he was a widower with three young children who needed a mother; in his opinion, even the most faithful of nursemaids was no replacement for a loving mother. Marrying Mary would provide him with a wife and his children with a mother-even if she was only twelve years older than Eleanor. His children needed a mother. He was rarely at home but if Mary was there, he might be able to be a better father to his children.

* * *

Charles kept expecting Henry to summon him to his chambers with a note or a token to be given to Princess Mary. But the hour of Charles's departure came without the slightest acknowledgement that he was leaving to marry the king's daughter; instead, Henry went hunting with Anne Boleyn. To be honest, it was an innocuous action, but it was not the typical action of a father on the eve of his only daughter's marriage. Henry's only acknowledgment of Charles's departure was a short note reminding Charles that he would still be expected to accompany the king on his voyage to France. The note made it clear that Charles would be expected to leave his wife at home. Charles would have six weeks at home with Mary and his children before leaving them for three months.

Queen Katherine, on the other hand, had given Charles a letter and a package to give to her daughter. She told the young duke that she wanted her daughter to be safe and happy. She again begged him to take care of her daughter. "I know that the king will not keep me here much longer, Charles," she said in a low voice. "I know that he intends to send me away from him and declare our marriage invalid. I do not know what he will do to Mary then, so I need you to protect her. Keep her safe."

* * *

Did she want to marry him? Mary was unsure if she really wanted to marry Charles Brandon. She knew that he had been kind to her when she was a child. She had a very clear memory of the visit to Calais during which she had been engaged to the Dauphin of France. She had kissed the prince's cheek and he had wiped it off, so she pushed him over. Everyone had laughed then although Lady Salisbury had reprimanded her for her unladylike conduct. Her parents had also made it clear to her that they disapproved of pushing boys.

But after she had spoken with her father about it, Charles, her friend and playmate, had picked her up and swung her around. "That's my girl," he told her, kissing her cheek. "Don't ever let any man push you around or wipe your kisses off his cheek. You deserve more than that." Then, he had put her down and told her that he bet she couldn't catch him.

Charles Brandon had been, until his marriage to her aunt, merely a sort of gentle giant. He was her father's friend and advisor. And as she grew older, she learned that he had a reputation of behaving immorally. But as a six-year-old, she had seen none of this. All she knew was that, unlike her father, he chased her around and played games with her; he never cared that she wasn't a boy.

Now, however, he had three children to whom she would be expected to be mother. She would be expected to be his wife. Lady Salisbury had spent the morning detailing the duties of a wife and while she had been kind, Mary was beginning to fear her marriage bed. What would she do if Charles demanded his rights on their wedding night? She knew that he would arrive that evening and they would marry the following morning. Then they would depart immediately for his estate. Would he want to consummate their marriage immediately or would he allow her time to adjust to the sudden changes in her life? The man who had been her playmate ten years earlier would be patient with his new wife but she was unsure of the man who was coming to marry her.

"His Grace is here, Your Majesty," Salisbury said as she bustled into the room. "You must come down and greet him."

Mary looked at her governess. "Will he be kind to me?"

"One can only hope so," the older woman replied.

"My mother would not want me to marry a cruel man."

"I only hope that your father would consider your mother's opinion in this matter."

Mary faltered. "I know that my father does not think much of me, but I would like to know that he would not throw me to the dogs."

"Well, His Grace is waiting for you. You mustn't keep your future husband waiting."

Mary nodded before hurrying down to the great hall where a tall man stood with his back to her. She faltered when she saw him pacing. Her heart was in her throat. She had to marry this man, live with him, and spend the rest of her life with him; but she didn't know him.

Then he coughed and turned around. He smiled, which Mary took as an encouraging sign. "Princess Mary, it is a pleasure to see you."

She smiled faintly. "Your Grace, welcome to Ludlow; I hope you had a pleasant journey."

He nodded. "The weather was fine and the roads were good. We made good time."

"Good," Mary said nodded. "I hope we have similar traveling conditions tomorrow."

Just then, Salisbury bustled into the room. "Your Grace, you are most welcome; I hope you had a good journey."

Charles turned his eyes to the older woman. "Yes, I did; thank you. Princess Mary was just inquiring after my journey and expressing her hopes that we have another good journey tomorrow."

"Are you really serious about leaving immediately after the wedding, Your Grace? You and the Princess ought to stay here at least for one night and allow the inhabitants of Ludlow to celebrate your marriage."

The duke shook his head. "King Henry told me that he wanted as little fanfare as possible for this wedding. He does not wish to spend money on any fuss."

"He wants to dispose of me, doesn't he?" Mary asked. "He wants me out of his way so that he can divorce my mother and marry that Boleyn girl with a clear conscience."

Charles looked down sadly. "His Majesty would not use those words precisely."

"But I have his general idea, do I not?"

"Princess, I swear to you that I will do everything within my power to care for you and protect you," he said firmly. Charles hesitantly reached out for Mary's hand; when he touched it, he found it cold and quivering. "Mary, I promised your mother that I would take care of you and keep you away from Court. I intend to keep my promise."

Mary nodded. "Thank you."

* * *

Charles and Mary were married the next day and left Ludlow Castle immediately after the wedding. "Am I still a princess or will I only be the Duchess of Suffolk now?" Mary asked her new husband as they sat in the carriage.

"I am not sure what your father has decided with that regard for the present. I know that he intends to have his marriage to your mother declared invalid, which means that you would lose your title as princess and you will simply be the Duchess of Suffolk. I think that the easiest way for us to handle this is for everyone to simply address you as the duchess from the beginning."

Mary nodded with tears in her eyes. "I understand. It will be easier for the children and servants that way."

"I know that most likely this will not make it hurt less when your father takes your title as princess away. But at least we might be able to keep others from finding out what your father has done."

"I do not understand all of this. Why does my father treat me like this? He, he, does he not love me anymore?"

Charles understood that the king wanted a son, but he did not understand the king's treatment of Mary. "I cannot explain your father. I have two daughters and I love them. I would not trade them for sons."

"But you have a son as well. That must make it easier to love the daughters."

"That may be. But I loved Eleanor and Frances before Henry was born. The fact that they are girls does not make me love them less than I love Henry. I love them because they are my children and I am their father."

Mary looked at her new husband. "And if we had children?"

"I would love them the same as I love Ellie, Frances, and Henry."

"Then why does my father not love me anymore?"

Charles bit his lip and shook his head. "I think that your father loves you, but things in your family are more complicated than things in my family. However, you are my wife and as such, you are the mother of my children, a part of our family. I want to give you a new start in our family, a fresh start where you don't worry."

"How am I supposed to simply stop worrying because I have a husband and three children now? Do you expect me to forget about my parents and the fact that I will probably be declared a bastard soon? My father is going to throw my mother and me away and marry someone else."

"I know. I want you to have a quiet, peaceful life. Maybe I will find a way for you to see your mother. There is nothing I can do about your father. I cannot change your past, but I can try to give you a better future."

She looked at him. "I am not sure that I understand what you are doing, but I think that you may be the only person who can truly protect me anymore. I have to trust you because you may be my only hope for a normal life."

Charles looked at his wife sadly. She deserved so much better than she had. She had been forced to marry a man of twice her age because her father did not want to deal with her. He knew this was the fate of many young women throughout the country, but Mary deserved more. She was a princess; she had been betrothed to the Holy Emperor and the Dauphin of France, but now she was married to the Duke of Suffolk. Margaret had once described him in spite as a man without noble blood; Mary was the daughter and granddaughter of kings. Theirs was not an equal marriage.

* * *

"Mary, Princess Mary, wake up." Mary felt hot breath against her ear and shook herself awake. She looked into the concerned face of her husband.

"Are we there?"

He nodded. "We are at Suffolk Manor and I am told that my children are waiting for us within."

"Then let us go inside."

Upon entering the house, Charles and Mary found all the servants of the house waiting for them in the Great Hall along with Charles's three children. Eleanor and Frances were standing while a nursemaid held young Henry whom Charles had told Mary was only twelve months old and not yet walking.

"Papa, Papa!" Eleanor cried, running to her father. Her light brown curls, which were reminiscent of her mother's hair, danced behind her.

The nursemaid holding young Henry grimaced, but Charles smiled. "Ellie, my darling girl, how are you? I've missed you," he said as he picked her up and kissed her cheek.

"We missed you too, Papa. And Henry still cannot walk."

"He will learn soon; I am sure. Now, Frances, come here. I have missed you. And I want my darling girls to meet their new Mama."

Frances had her father's brilliant blue eyes and dark brown hair but a more timid disposition. Nevertheless, she ran eagerly to her father and was picked up quickly. After kissing his younger daughter's cheek, Charles walked to his wife. "Mary, I want you to meet my darling daughters, Eleanor and Frances. Ellie and Frances, I want you to meet your new mama."

"You are pretty," Eleanor said. "I think I like you."

Frances smiled shyly at her new stepmother and then unexpectedly reached her little arms out towards Mary. Mary took the little girl into her arms and smiled as the little girl kissed her cheek and exclaimed, "Mama!" before snuggling her head against Mary's shoulder.

Charles smiled at the tender picture before him and adjusted Eleanor in his own arms. "Madam, I would also like you to meet my son, Henry," he said as they walked towards the nursemaid holding the blonde boy.

Mary smiled. "He is a dear little lad. I look forward to watching him grow."

This remark as well as Mary's behavior towards each of her new stepchildren pleased the entire household. It demonstrated a mistress who would love and care for the duke's children.

"Papa, now that you are home again, may Frances and I come see you and our new mama if we are scared at night?"

Charles swallowed slowly. In the past, his daughters had often found their way into his bed during the course of a night. He had shared a bed with Margaret during their marriage, but he did not think that Mary was ready to share his bed. As he contemplated a response, his new wife surprised him by answering, "Of course, Ellie; you are still welcome."

This remark, in the duke's opinion, merited a private conversation with his wife about their sleeping arrangements. He had intended to offer his bride her own bedroom until she was ready to share a bed. But he was not about to raise the issue in front of his children. In all likelihood, they believed that all parents always slept in the same bed because he had shared a bed with Margaret.

Charles looked at his children. "And that reminds me that I need to show the duchess her new home, starting with her bedroom. I am quite sure that she is tired after our journey and will want to rest."

"I'll take Lady Frances and Lady Eleanor to clean up before supper, if it pleases Your Grace," the nursemaid holding Henry said.

Charles nodded. "Ellie and Frances, go with Bessie please."

"We'll see you at supper," Frances said to her stepmother as she was set down.

* * *

"She talks to you," Charles said to his wife as they walked up the stairs. "Frances actually talked to you."

"She seems shy."

"She is extremely shy," he told her. "She has barely spoken to anyone other than Bessie and me since Margaret passed away. And then she meets you and speaks to you immediately. I am surprised."

"Maybe she knows that I mean well towards her," Mary replied with a faint smile.

"Perhaps, in any case, both of the girls seem to like you. But this is your room," he said opening a door and leading her inside. "I hope it meets with your liking."

Mary nodded. "It's lovely. Will you be sleeping in here as well?"

He smiled faintly. "You told Ellie that I would be. To be honest, I had not intended to immediately. Mary, you are only sixteen. I remember when you were Ellie's age. I do not; no, I will not force myself or anything else upon you."

"I appreciate that, but you are my husband and I think that your children will expect us to share a bed. If I am honest, some of the more practical aspects of marriage frighten me."

Charles nodded. "I suspected as much. Believe me, Mary; I will not force you to do anything you do not want to do and I will do everything in my power to keep you from being hurt."

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A/N: Please review! Let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I don't own what you recognize; I'm only playing with toys. Secondly, I'm so glad that so many of you like my story; please keep reviewing. I really like the idea of Mary and Charles together.

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August 1532**

King Henry was not as apathetic about his daughter's wedding as Charles supposed him to be. The morning of her wedding, he prayed for her and considered himself to be doing a great duty to a child whom he loved but considered to be a bastard. He heard that the queen was saddened at his decision to forbid her attendance at their daughter's wedding, but there was nothing he could do. Their marriage was unlawful and invalid. Mary was a bastard and she was lucky to make such a fortunate marriage as to marry the Duke of Suffolk. He had told Katherine all of this as reasoning why she was not allowed to attend Mary's wedding.

Anne, on the other hand, was furious that Henry had allowed Charles Brandon to marry Mary. "You were supposed to marry her to my brother. George could control her. If she married him, you know that everything would work in our favor. But you let her marry Charles Brandon. He's a rogue. You never know what he will do next."

"Charles is my most loyal servant and friend!" Henry spat back in her face. "He will always do what I ask of him."

"I am merely reminding you that Charles married your sister without your permission."

"At the time, I disapproved of the match, but with time I came to see that they were well-suited to one another and they had a happy marriage until Margaret's death. Now, I believe that he will be a good match for my daughter."

"She is a bastard."

"And he is merely a duke. The match is not unequal." He looked her in the eye. "Anne, I know that someday we will marry and have children of our own, but Mary is my child even if she is illegitimate. I would like her to be happy."

"And you think that my brother would not make her happy?"

"Your brother was only willing to marry her because your father wanted him to do so. Charles volunteered to marry her."

Anne sniffed. "He has a plan; I know it. Why else would he want to marry a king's bastard?"

"He is my friend, Anne. He is not a threat to us, so stop worrying." The king moved a chess piece. "I am thinking of sending Mary a wedding gift."

"Why do you trouble yourself over her? Think of the sons I will give you. We will have fine, strong sons. Mary is merely a bastard daughter. You do not need to send her a wedding gift."

"Maybe after we return from France," Henry replied casually.

* * *

The first night of Mary's wedded life was not what Salisbury had made her fear the night before. Charles did not attempt to take her by force. A well-intentioned Salisbury had described sexual intercourse in graphic details and frightened her sixteen-year-old charge. But instead of trying to give his new wife a practical lesson in these matters, Charles took his wife to their bedroom at the end of the evening and treated her courteously. "I will go say good-night to Ellie and Frances," he told her. "You may prepare yourself for bed while I am gone. I will prepare in another room. Tell Maggie to let me know when I may return to the room."

Mary nodded shyly. "Thank you, Your Grace."

"Please call me Charles," he said with a smile. "I am your husband."

She smiled. "Thank you, Charles."

"It is my pleasure, Mary," he replied before leaving the room.

* * *

Charles returned half an hour later to find his wife sitting in their bed under the blankets. "You look nervous," he remarked as he took off his dressing gown and climbed under the covers.

"You never heard what Lady Salisbury told me last night," she replied firmly.

"Mary, I will not hurt you. I do not know what you were told, but I will not do anything that you do not want. And all I simply want to share my bed with you."

"And if the children come in, then what happens?"

He smiled. "They will push their way in between us. Frances will probably climb over one of us on her way into the bed, but Ellie has figured out how to crawl up from the foot of the bed under the covers."

Mary smiled. "Do they come every night?"

"No, but they come often. And since tonight is my first night at home in a long time, I expect to see them."

"Charles, you like being a father, do you not?"

He laughed. "I love it. I know that your father thinks that I live and breathe for him, but those three angels are my reason for existing. Now, go to sleep, Mary; you have had a long day and must be very tired.

Mary smiled as her husband pressed his lips against her forehead before blowing out the last candle and closing his eyes.

* * *

Charles woke up in the middle of the night to the feeling of cold feet pressed against his knees. These were not the small feet of a little girl; they belonged to a grown woman. Opening his eyes in the dim predawn light, Charles was forced to smile at what he saw. Mary was curled up with her back pressed against his chest-with her feet pressed against his legs. Ellie and Frances were sprawled over the other half of the bed with their limbs askew, the way that their mother had slept. He carefully wrapped a protective arm around Mary and closed his eyes again.

**

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September 1532**

* * *

Life at Suffolk Manor fell into a steady rhythm over the next six weeks before the Duke's departure for France. Before breakfast, the couple attended Mass together; Charles had never been a particularly religious person but he knew his wife was a devout Catholic and this was something that she truly valued. After breakfasting with the children, Charles spent his mornings managing his estate while Mary spent hers with the children, teaching them to sew, reading to them, and playing with them. Charles and Mary often spent the afternoon together-talking, reading, and getting to know each other. And Charles took to bringing his wife flowers from the garden for their bedroom occasionally.

* * *

The first true interruption of the rhythm came with Eustace Chapuys three weeks after the wedding. The imperial ambassador came into the house mid-morning and quickly asked after the duchess's well-being. Then he asked to speak with the duke privately. Before Mary could ask her husband why, Charles was ordering his horse and preparing to leave for Whitehall Castle.

"I will be home tomorrow night," he promised her before leaving. "And I will explain everything then. But right now, I need to go to Whitehall."

Mary nodded as her husband pressed his lips against her forehead. She knew that this involved her mother somehow; there was no other reason that Chapuys would come to Suffolk Manor.

* * *

Queen Katherine was to be sent away from court the next morning. Chapuys had merely come to tell Charles but the Duke of Suffolk wanted to see his mother-in-law before she left court. Henry had left with Anne Boleyn that morning and Katherine was to be sent away in the morning. Immediately upon his arrival in London, Charles went to his mother-in-law.

"You need not have come," was her immediately reaction upon seeing him.

He shook his head calmly. "Your Majesty, you are my wife's mother and my queen. It is my duty as your son and your subject to be here."

"Charles, the king is a hard man. I pray that you do not fall into his disfavor for this."

"My lady, with all due respect, I care not," he whispered.

Katherine smiled. "Take care not to lose your head. Think of your children and your wife."

The duke nodded. "Madam, my wife and children are my highest concern. I will do everything in my power to keep Mary and the children safe and protected. I promise I will not stick my neck out too far."

"You care for her," the queen said. "I see now that you have come to care for my daughter."

Charles smiled. "Your Majesty, I have always cared for the princess. She has always held a special place in my heart. But now, as I live with her and come to know more, I cannot help but admire her more with every day."

"I knew that you were the right husband for my daughter. I knew that she could never be happy with George Boleyn. But I think that you will make her happy."

"I hope to make her happy."

* * *

The next morning, Katherine left Whitehall. Other than servants and loyal commoners, the only people there were Charles Brandon, Sir Thomas More, Eustace Chapuys, and Thomas Cromwell. Cromwell was only there by order of the king; the others were there out of sympathy and support for the embattled queen. After kissing her on the cheek and once again promising to take care of her daughter, Charles had handed his mother-in-law into the carriage. He heard Sir Thomas promise her that even larger crowds would greet the queen on her return to London. Charles prayed this to be true but doubted that Katherine would ever see London again. King Henry seemed determined to rid himself of his first marriage.

After the carriage carrying the queen rolled away, Sir Thomas approached Charles Brandon. "Your Grace, what brings you here today? I did not know that you were close to the queen"

"She is my mother-in-law," Charles said.

"Did you say mother-in-law?" Thomas asked, confusion consuming his face. "How, when did this happen?"

"I married Princess Mary three weeks past. It is a complex situation and one that I would rather not discuss in public."

More nodded, a little confused. "You married the princess? Where is she? I thought she was at Ludlow Castle."

"She was there until our marriage. However, for the past three weeks, she has resided with my children and me at my home in Suffolk. Has the king said nothing of my marriage?"

The older man shook his head. "Nothing, Your Grace, has been said of your marriage. His Majesty said that you left Court to tend your family and would return shortly."

Charles snorted. "We shall see when I return. I have a family to tend after all."

"But why, if I may ask, did you marry Princess Mary? I always thought that the king wanted her to make a marriage that would be politically advantageous to England."

Charles took the older man's arm. "Come with me to my rooms. I will not discuss this where we may be overheard."

A look of confusion clouded Sir Thomas's face but he followed Charles away from the courtyard.

"Am I to surmise that you did not marry the princess voluntarily then?" Sir Thomas asked.

"No, I was a willing groom," Charles replied. "His Majesty wanted to marry his daughter to George Boleyn."

"Why would he do that?"

"So he could control her. Henry was hoping that if he married Mary off, then Katherine would be happy and more willing to comply with his demands."

"But you were unwilling to see her married to George Boleyn?"

Charles nodded. "The Boleyns would break her. They would destroy her and I couldn't stand by and watch that happen. Do you remember the princess as a child?"

"Vaguely, I did not know her well."

"Do you remember when she pushed the Dauphin over after he wiped her kiss off his face?"

Sir Thomas smiled. "I do."

"Mary has spirit. She is a wonderful person and I could not stand by and watch anyone crush her. Furthermore, Margaret, my first wife, loved her niece."

"And she hated the Boleyns."

"Exactly," Charles replied with a gleam in his eye. "So, I did the only thing that I could do for Mary."

"You married her," Thomas said with a smile.

"I had been thinking about marrying again. I have young children who need a mother and I am not so old as to be utterly repulsive to a young woman of marriageable age."

"How is the princess settling into married life?"

"She is a good mistress of the house and a kind and loving stepmother. To be honest, I think that being duchess really suits her well."

"And how do you like being married to her?"

Charles smiled. "It is not something that I would have ordinarily thought to have done, but she is a good companion. She has grown up well and is a lovely young lady."

"You are both happy then?"

"Yes, I believe that we are." He paused for a moment before continuing. "Sir Thomas, as much as I might like to stay and talk to you, I would like to begin my journey home. I have a wife and children to whom I am eager to return. I only came to Whitehall to see my mother-in-law and then I promised my wife that I would return as quickly as I could."

The note of pride in Charles's voice as he said "my wife" did not go unnoticed by Sir Thomas, but the older man chose to make no comment about it, but rather simply said, "Do you know when you will next be in London?"

"I am required to go to France with the king, but beyond that trip, I have no immediate plans to spend much time at court. My family needs me."

"Charles, why are you doing this?"

"My wife is not allowed at court and I will not leave her to wither in Suffolk alone. I am determined to be the best husband and father I can be. If that means avoiding the court, I will."

Sir Thomas smiled. "You have grown-up, Your Grace."

* * *

Life back at Suffolk Manor consisted of two playful little girls and an excited little boy. It was a warm, sunny day and so Mary decided to spend as much of it outside as she could. There would probably not be many more warm days left in the year and some fresh air would be good for Ellie and Frances. They, of course, were simply delighted to be able to go outside and run around the gardens laughing merrily while their stepmother chased them. Henry, on the other hand, was fussing. In the past few days, he had started screaming whenever Bessie held him. Only Mary and Charles could calm him. He was not ill, but he had decided that he no longer liked his nursemaid and only wanted "Mama."

By mid-afternoon when Ellie and Frances awoke from their nap, it was Bessie who took them to the gardens to play. Meanwhile, their stepmother walked around with their little brother who was not allowed to crawl out of doors because he liked to eat slugs and worms.

"I think I might be falling in love with your father," Mary whispered to the whimpering, squirming child in her arms. "He is handsome and kind. When I was a little girl, he played with me often. He was kind to me and treated me like a little friend. The day that my father's bastard was born, your father played with me while everyone else was fluttering around the castle worrying about the new baby and my parents' marriage. I was three and your father was nineteen. He was supposed to be at the feast, but he took me to play in the garden and he told me stories. He was always kind to me. And now, he is so good to me. He listens to me and he teaches me things about life."

"Mama?" the little boy said. "Go dow?"

"Do you want to get down?" Mary asked her stepson.

"Yah," he replied eagerly.

Mary sat down on the ground and put little Henry down. But instead of hunching down to crawl, he grabbed the nearby bench and pulled himself to his feet. His stepmother beamed. "You're standing, Henry!" she said.

"Mama!" he exclaimed before slowly letting go of the bench and stepping towards "mama."

Tears of pride started to well in Mary's eyes as little Henry took seven tottering steps into her arms. As she kissed the top of his head, he wrapped his chubby little arms around her neck and said, "My mama."

As Mary started to cry, she heard footsteps behind her. As she turned to see who was behind her, she heard a familiar voice say, "So I leave for one day and he decides to start walking."

"Husband," she began as she stood with the child in her arms. "He has only taken seven steps. You have not missed much. I am quite sure you will see much more in the days to come."

"Papa," the young boy said softly, stretching his arms to his father.

Charles grinned as he took his son into his arms. "I am home now, little Henry. Papa is home."

"Where were you?" Mary asked. "You said you would explain when you returned."

He nodded slowly. "I went to Whitehall. Your mother, I had to see your mother."

Mary's blue eyes went wide with panic. Her world was too turbulent for her husband to go see her mother on a whim. "Why? Charles, what happened?"

"Your father banished her from court," he said bitterly. "Anne Boleyn has your father so convinced that she can produce a male heir that your mother is gone from court. I went to see your mother because I wanted to see her before she was sent away from court."

"Where did they send her?"

"The More," he replied.

"Does my father want to kill her?"

Charles shook his head and sighed. "Mary, I do not understand your father. Come inside and we can talk in my study where no one will overhear."

She nodded and followed him into the house, leaning on his arm as she walked. Carrying her stepson had tired her more than she had expected. Charles smiled at the weight of his wife's body against him. He could see tiredness in her eyes and he longed to pull her into his lap and hold her. But he needed to talk with her about her mother's situation before he could comfort her.

* * *

Charles and Mary went into his study, taking little Henry with them. The young boy was enjoying his father's company and seemed blissfully unaware of the fears in his parents' hearts. So while the baby fell asleep in his father's lap, Charles told his wife about his visit to Whitehall. "Your father is determined to build a new life for himself, a life without you or your mother."

"He wants to divorce my mother and marry that harlot, Anne Boleyn. He wants to declare me a bastard and annul my claim to the throne."

Charles nodded. "He actually wants to declare the marriage invalid, but yes, you understand his idea."

"I thought he loved my mother and me," Mary said with tears in her eyes. "I thought that I was his perfect pearl in all the world, but now I know that I never met anything to him. I was just a daughter and a daughter is not good enough for him. He needs a son and since my mother has not given him one, he is just throwing us away."

Looking at his wife, the duke trembled. Tears streamed down her cheeks and he wanted to change things, make things better for her. "I cannot make you a princess, Mary. And I cannot save your parents' marriage or your relationship with your father. I wish I could change those things, but I cannot. However, I can be a good and faithful husband to you. I can care for you and do everything in my power to protect you."

Mary smiled. "I trust you, Charles. I am not entirely sure why, but I trust you implicitly. Something tells me that you have my best interests at heart and you care deeply for me. I know that no one can change my father, but I also know that you will strive to keep me safe. And I think," here she fumbled for words. She wanted to tell her husband that she was ready to consummate their marriage, but she was unsure of how to say this in words. She was sixteen years old and he was thirty-two. He had been married before. How could she say what she wanted to say? As Charles looked at her intently and wonderingly, she finally the words she sought. "Husband, I want to be completely and entirely your wife. I desire to fulfill all of my marriage vows."

"You want to consummate our marriage?" he asked as he rubbed his sleeping son's back.

She blushed as she nodded. "I think I am ready."

"If it is what you desire, then it can happen as soon as this very night."

She looked down. "I desire this, but what if the children come into the room while we are doing?"

He smiled. "I would not worry about that, Mary. They usually wait until much later in the night to come. Ellie never troubled Margaret and me."

* * *

That night, Mary went with her husband to say good-night to the children. Then, she went back to their bedroom with him. Instead of having her maid help her undress, Mary allowed her husband to help her. She was a bit afraid of everything, but he was her husband and she wanted to be the best possible wife possible. He was her only hope and her greatest protector. And she was learning to love him as a wife ought to love a wife.

To his wife's relief and delight, Charles was a kind, patient, careful, and gentle lover. He did not treat her as roughly or cruelly as Lady Salisbury had told her he would. The governess had told Mary that Charles, having extensive sexual experience, would demand unusual and painful things from his wife, but he did not. Instead, he treated his wife with love and respect.

**

* * *

October 1532**

* * *

Mary and Charles continued to make love in the evenings that followed that first night. As the days progressed, Mary found herself in love with her husband. She realized this one night when they were saying good-night to the children. Charles was leaving for Whitehall in three days and France in four, and he had not hidden his displeasure at his upcoming trip from his wife. After their nightly-lovemaking the night before, he had admitted it while they were snuggled together in bed. "I wish I could just stay here instead of going to bloody France and playing court to your father's damn whore," he whispered, running his fingers through her hair.

"What is so much better about here than there?" Mary asked shyly.

He pressed his lips against her collarbone and began nibbling his way along her neck, slowly working his way up to her lips. Before kissing them however, he spoke, his breath hot against her smooth lips. "Do you truly not know?"

At the time, Mary had merely basked in the luxury of a doting husband, but as she watched him lead Ellie and Frances in their prayers, she knew why he wanted to stay with his family. He couldn't keep his eyes off of her even when he was supposed to be praying with the children; Charles was a man in love. And she loved him. She loved the soft sweep of that one rogue across his forehead. She loved the scratch of his scruff against her breasts. She loved the way he listened to her talk about the gardens and the way he advised her about the children. She loved the fact that he would walk around the garden with Henry at the little lad's tottering pace. And she loved the fact that in the heat of lovemaking, he called her Maria instead of Mary.

As she adjusted Henry on her hip, she realized that it had been about five weeks since she had last had her monthly course. But before she could worry about the fact, Henry pulled her hair and yelped "Mama!" She turned her attention back to the toddler and the thought of missing her course slipped her mind. And the hubbub of the next few days, the thought completely slipped her mind. She was completely focused on helping Charles pack and coping with three small children who did not want their father to go away.

* * *

Mercifully, the children were still asleep when Charles left in the early morning of a cold, rainy Wednesday in early October. "I'll be home shortly after the new year, Maria," he told his wife. "Take care of the children. If you need anything, do not hesitate to write to me."

Mary wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'll miss you terribly."

"And I you," he replied, pressing his lips to her forehead. "But when you find yourself awake in the middle of the night because you miss me, just look at the moon because the same moon hangs over France and England and I will be looking at the moon missing you too."

Mary smiled and pressed her face into his chest. "Charles, I love you."

He put his finger under her chin and lifted her face up. "I love you too, Maria, and I will see you in early January."

Then he kissed her gently and left.

* * *

A/N: Please review!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I don't own what you recognize; I'm just trying to create a happy love story. And I love my reviewers; you're all amazing.

**

* * *

October 1532**

* * *

Charles went to Whitehall and subsequently to France. He made this journey well aware that few in the English court knew that he was married. He knew that he needed to tell Sir Anthony Knivert that he was married, but beyond that things were a bit more complex. From a personal perspective, he wanted to scream the news of his marriage from the rooftops, but from a political perspective, he wanted to act in a manner that would protect his wife and he was not sure how to do this immediately.

Regardless, telling Tony was a necessity, so Charles took him aside their first night in France. "I need to talk to you privately."

"What have you done now?" Knivert asked as they walked out to the courtyard. "Henry has no more sisters for you to marry, so this cannot be too serious. Unless of course, you've done something even stupider and married Princess Mary. But I fail to see how even you could do that since Henry has her hidden away in the Welsh marshes."

Charles sighed and ran a hand over his head. "I married Princess Mary," he said flatly.

"My god, Charles, I was joking!" Knivert replied. "Why would you do that? Are you trying to fuck the entire succession of England?"

"Henry wanted her to marry George Boleyn and I told him it was a bad idea."

"So you married her instead?"

Charles nodded. "He asked me who would marry her if not George and then asked me if I would marry her. I said yes and now I have been married to her for six weeks."

"Where have you been hiding her?"

"Suffolk Manor, she and I have been living there with my children."

Tony looked at Charles and shook his head. "Answer me this. Are you happy with her?"

"She is a wonderful, loving, and devoted wife to my children and she manages my household beautifully."

"But does she make you happy, Charles? Is she a good wife to you?"

Charles knew where Tony's mind had gone and laughed. "In all things, she is the best wife possible. But Tony, I must ask you to keep this a secret as long as Henry wants it to be so. I love my wife but I believe that she deserves safety and privacy."

"Then answer me one last question. Why is this such a secret?"

"I know not, but since Henry has not seen fit to make the marriage public knowledge, I will follow his lead on this matter. He wants to the supreme head of everything; let him."

* * *

Mary, on the other hand, had no such major decisions to make. Her daily concerns were the managing of her husband's estate and the well-being of the children. The managing of the estate was easier than the managing of the children; they were well-behaved but they missed their father. Ellie insisted upon sleeping with her father's pillow every night because it comforted her; she also insisted upon sleeping with her stepmother every night "so you don't miss Papa too much." Frances also inevitably found her way into "mama's bed" every night although gradually the concrete of "Papa" began to slip from her two-year-old's mind. She and Henry knew someone was gone but they were a bit unsure of who exactly was gone. The housekeeper, Mrs. Hastings, assured Mary that "They do this every time His Grace leaves. But you trust me, Your Grace, the minute the duke walks in that front door come January, the little loves will know exactly who he is again."

This eased a great burden on Mary's mind. The days were turning colder and several things were becoming clear to her. Firstly, she had three children depending upon her as their primary caretaker. Yes, there were servants to help, but she was the one to whom they came running when they were frightened or hurt. Secondly, she was learning that she enjoyed the role of mistress of the house; for the first time in her life, she genuinely felt like an adult. Thirdly, she was with child. She had not had her monthly course since shortly after her wedding. If the daily nausea hadn't been enough of a clue, a midwife confirmed her suspicions in late October and told her the baby would come in early June. She told no one except her maid, Maggie, because she did not want the children to find out and somehow reveal her secret to Charles before she could tell him. She wanted to tell him privately as a wife to her husband before she told anyone else. Now she just needed a valid excuse for making new dresses or adding new panels to the ones she already owned.

**

* * *

November 1532**

* * *

Charles was not enjoying his visit to France. He did not enjoy watching Henry and Anne all but make love in front of God and everyone. He missed finding his children in his bed at random moments; in fact, he just generally missed his children. And he missed his wife; above all else, he missed Mary in every way it was possible to miss her. Time and again, Tony told him that he could find a French girl to keep him company at night if he was so "damn lonely" but Charles refused. "I made a promise to be faithful to my wife and I intend to keep it."

"She need never know, Charles. Just find one of those lovely little French girls and tell her you need a nighttime companion. And then you don't have to tell Mary about it when you come home. You take care of your needs and Mary never knows the difference."

"I need Mary, Tony, not just someone to keep my bed warm. It isn't just about sex or having a warm body in my bed."

"I do not understand you. Henry takes mistresses, why can't you?"

Charles snorted. "Henry takes mistresses. Henry wants to divorce his wife and marry another woman. That is Henry. I am Charles and I would like to stay married to the same woman for as long as we are both living."

"So take a mistress just for the next two months and then lie to Mary about it."

"I will not lie to her. There are enough people in her life who lie to her; I will not join their ranks."

Tony sighed. "Have you told her why you married her?"

"Henry told her that we were marrying per his orders."

"And when do you plan on telling her that her father wanted her to marry George Boleyn?"

"I am not sure that is something she needs to know. I don't want her to hate her father. What good could possibly come of her knowing that?" Charles spat "that" out as if it were poison.

"Are you lying to her? If you don't tell her, someone else may do the deed for you."

**

* * *

December 1532**

* * *

Tony's suspicions that someone else might tell Mary were entirely correct. And that someone else was Eustace Chapuys, a man who did not know that Charles never told Mary that her father had originally intended to give her to George Boleyn. So when Chapuys came to Suffolk Manor in early December to see how the Brandon family was faring without husband and father, he mentioned "the duke's great kindness in rescuing you from your father's plot to see you married to George Boleyn."

Mary gasped. "George Boleyn, my father intended for me to marry George Boleyn?"

"Surely His Grace told you that your father had arranged with Thomas Boleyn that you would marry George and then, with you under Boleyn's control, your mother would do whatever His Majesty asked. But when the Duke of Suffolk heard of it, he objected and it was arranged that you would marry him instead."

"No one ever told me anything about it," Mary said softly.

"Yes, he offered to marry you. He later told me privately that he did not want to see you married to a Boleyn. He feared that they would break you and treat you in a manner which you did not deserve."

Charles had chosen to marry her. He had not done it because the king ordered him to. He had been a willing groom. "But why would he want to marry me?"

"He has fond remembrances of you from your childhood. Also, he knows of the great love your aunt, his first wife, had for you and he did not think she would want to see you married to a Boleyn. His Grace told me that he believes Princess Margaret would have wanted this for both of you."

"He never told me any of this."

Chapuys smiled. "Your Highness, I believe that His Grace desires to protect you from your father as much as he can. Also, I believe based on my conversations with him since your marriage that he has developed feelings of a romantic nature towards Your Highness and wishes to make your marriage as natural as possible."

Mary sat down and took a deep breath. It was all too much information. Charles wanted to marry her, or at least did not want her to marry George Boleyn. He had told her that he loved her; the fact that he was developing feelings of a romantic nature towards her was not a surprise. But still, this man was giving up so much for her. "And what does he get from me? Did my father give him a dowry for me?"

"Not to my knowledge," Chapuys replied. "I know that he was not given any new lands or titles."

"Then why would he marry me?"

"Perhaps the duke is a better man than we suspected him of being."

**

* * *

January 1533**

* * *

If Chapuys had seen Charles in France, he would have known that he was a better man than he had previously suspected. A week before their scheduled departure from France, Charles tried one last time to remind Henry that Anne Boleyn had a reputation of attaching herself to other men prior to her current relationship with the King. "The allegations about Henry Percy are known to be true and it is rumored that she had a sexual relationship with Thomas Wyatt as well."

"You've told me all of this before, Charles. She denies it and I trust her. So why do you keep repeating gossip?"

"I want to make sure that Your Majesty does not make a mistake that you will later regret."

"Then stop worrying about me. I will not regret this. Now, make like a good son to his father and trust me. I know what I am doing and I have done so much for you. I expect more of you. Stop repeating gossip or I may think that you favor Katherine over me."

After Henry walked away from him, Tony came to Charles. "Do you really think you can get anywhere warning him about her?"

"No, but for Mary's sake, I had to try. I have to protect my wife."

"Beware that you do not overstep your bounds, Charles. You do not want to make her a widow."

* * *

Meanwhile, back in Suffolk, Frances was at that very moment climbing into her mother's bed while crying. Mary woke up to the sound of sniffling and looked at the little girl who had recently turned three. "What is it, dearest?"

"The dogs are barking and I'm scared," Frances whimpered.

"Why are you scared?"

"Are we safe?"

Mary kissed the little girl's forehead. "Yes, we are very safe. But there is a full moon tonight and that makes the dogs excited."

"But why?" Frances asked. "Are they afraid of it?"

"I don't think so. I think that the moon affects their blood somehow."

"So they howl?"

"I suppose so," Mary replied. "When your papa comes home, you should ask him about it. He probably knows more than I do." She inwardly supposed that Charles's sixteen more years of life experience could do that.

"I don't remember what Papa looks like anymore," Frances said sadly.

"He will be home very soon, and then I am certain you'll remember him again."

"Why did he go away?"

"The king told him he had to come on a trip with him and if the king tells you to do something, you have to do it."

"Do you miss Papa?"

Mary nodded and, certain that the little girl couldn't see her doing so, put a cautious hand on her belly, which was beginning to swell softly. "I miss him very much. But before he left, he told me that whenever I missed him, I should look at the moon."

"Why?" Frances asked eagerly.

"He told me that the same moon hangs over England and France, so if I was looking at the moon, I should remember that he was looking at the same moon and thinking of me too."

The little girl smiled up at her. "Can we go look at the moon now?"

Mary smiled and kissed Frances's forehead. "Yes, but then you have to go to sleep."

* * *

"Your Grace," Thomas Boleyn said as he approached the Duke of Suffolk at supper on the English Court's last night in France. "It would give me great pleasure to invite you to dine with me."

"Not as much pleasure as it gives me to refuse you," Charles replied firmly. "I do not know what we would discuss."

"I believe that I could advise Your Grace as to the proper managing of a young wife such as the Lady Mary. I believe that I could instruct you as to how to break such a spirited mare. It would allow you a much more peaceful home life."

"I have no intention of breaking my wife's spirit. The duchess is a good and loving wife. I wish no harm to come to her."

"Surely you must agree that she could be a better daughter to His Majesty. Even a bastard ought to show respect for their own parents."

Charles stiffened. "She is my wife and I will not stand to hear her character vilified like this. The Princess Mary is a good and loving daughter to both of Their Majesties."

"You ought to watch what you say and to whom, Your Grace, or you may find yourself without a place at court. You know that some whisper that you support the queen over my daughter. You once were quite content to ignore the realm of politics and simply live as a private citizen. What happened to you? What made you marry the Lady Mary?"

"I grew up."

* * *

Charles was not surprised when, on his return from France, he was called to Thomas Cromwell's chambers to be banished from court. Upon receiving the edict, he rode his horse through the January snows to his home, to his wife and children. "The children have all gone to bed already, Your Grace," Mrs. Hastings informed him when he entered the house shortly after nightfall. "But Her Grace is in your study sewing."

Upon hearing her words, Charles had immediately rushed into his study and found his wife sitting quietly by the fireplace. Her back was turned to him and she looked so peaceful. He almost didn't want to disturb her, but he had missed her and his desire to hold her in his arms far exceeded his desire to stand by and watch her. And then she turned. He had done nothing to disturb her, but perhaps her maternal instincts were making her more alert of the world around her. Whatever the reason, she dropped her sewing on the floor and jumped up. "Charles!" she cried, running to him. "You, you're here!"

"I am," he replied before he lifted her up in his arms and kissed her. Then he set her down and led her back to her chair.

"How have you been, my love?" she asked as she sat down. "How was France?"

"To be blunt, I have been banished from court," he replied, kneeling next to her chair and picking up the dress she had thrown on the floor. "France was unpleasant, I missed home and you and the children, and I have been banished from court."

"What have you done?" True concern showed in her blue eyes.

"I have been insolent and disrespectful towards the Boleyn family. In other words, I have informed them that my wife and children are my first priority; and if this conflicts with their political motives, so be it. So I am here, at your disposal, for the foreseeable future."

Mary smiled. "This is good news. The children have missed you. In fact, when we retire to our room, you will find Ellie in our bed. She insisted upon sleeping there so that I would not miss you too much, and then she commandeered your pillow so that she would not miss you either."

Charles laughed. "She has much of Margaret's spirit in her."

"But she has an impish streak that comes entirely from you," Mary replied. "I have seen a good bit of it in the past few months."

"I hope that she has not been too impish."

"Oh, no, she has been very helpful, but occasionally she says or does something that remind me that she is very much so your daughter."

Charles smiled. "And how are the other children? Are they well?"

Mary wondered if this was her opportunity to tell him that she was with child. His hands were in her lap and she longed to take one of them and place it over the small but firm roundness that her dress hid. She wanted him to feel their child that was beginning to make his or her presence known. But she decided to tell him about Frances and Henry first.

"Henry is walking everywhere now and talking a good deal. He mostly chatters and says nonsense but he is rarely quiet now. And Frances is becoming more talkative, but she will always been the shyer of the girls." She paused and took a deep breath. "And there is something else I must tell you."

"What is it, my love? Are you well?" he asked, knitting his brows together with concern.

Mary took his right hand in her own small hands and lifted it to her belly. Her voice faltered as she said, "I am very well indeed. I am with child."

Charles pressed his hands against his wife's belly and beamed as he felt the firm roundness. "A child, you are going to have a child? When do the physicians think you will give birth?"

"Early June," she replied.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked. She was sixteen years old, almost seventeen admittedly, but she was still so young. And now there was a baby coming.

"I think so," Mary said. "I think that Ellie, Frances, and Henry are preparing me."

Charles was tracing circles on her belly with his fingers as she talked. "Mary, promise me that you won't carry them around anymore. It could harm the baby."

"I know. Henry is walking more, which means that I don't have to carry him as much."

"And I am here now, which means that I can carry him or Frances if they want to be carried."

"You should carry me up to bed right now," Mary said. "I'm exhausted."

Charles smiled. "What do you want me to do with that dress you were working on?"

"Put it in my workbasket. I can take care of it tomorrow. I just want to sleep."

"You want to just sleep and nothing more?" her husband asked slyly as he put the dress where she asked.

"Charles, Ellie is asleep in our bed," she began. "And we need to be careful of the baby."

"Of course," he replied as he lifted her into his arms. "I understand perfectly."

* * *

Ellie was sprawled across her parents' bed when they entered their room. Charles chuckled. "I have missed her greatly," he said as he set his wife down on the bed.

"And she has missed you. You were her favorite topic of conversation."

"Did Frances and Henry miss me? My selfish pride would like to know."

Mary smiled. "I think that Henry has forgotten you but I am sure that tomorrow he will remember you. Frances struggled to remember you. She really did try to remember you, but she told me a week or two ago that she had forgotten your face. I told her what you had told me about the moon and every night after that, she insisted on looking at the moon and telling you good-night before she went to bed."

"She forgot my face?"

"Relax, Charles," Mary replied, running a loving hand over his face. "It's a lovely face and I didn't forget it."

He smiled as he undressed her, an act he had very much missed while he had been in France. "I missed you so much. I wanted to leave and come home so badly, but I knew that was a dangerous idea. I knew I could lose my head if I left and I would be no good to you or the children as a ghost."

She impulsively kissed his forehead for that statement. "No good at all," she whispered in his ear. "I need you like this. Henry, Frances, and Ellie need you like this."

"And I suppose that this little one also needs me to keep my head?" he asked before kissing her belly and helping her into her nightgown.

Mary nodded. "But is a lovely head and I don't want to lose it either."

Charles smiled before leaning over his wife and kissing her passionately. "Oh, Mary, I have missed you so much."

* * *

A/N: Please review!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I love all of my reviewers; you're all wonderful. And I don't own what you recognize.

**

* * *

January 1533**

* * *

Charles woke up to find himself surrounded by women the next morning. He and Mary had somehow becoming intertwined in their sleep; her legs were twisted between his and his arms were wrapped around her. His right hand was pressed firmly against her slightly swollen belly, a feeling which he loved. Ellie was clutching his left hand in her sleep. And Frances had wrapped her arms around his arm at some point after her arrival in the bed. He was a happy man, a very happy man. All he needed was little Henry and his life would be complete, or at least his family would all be in one bed.

* * *

Frances squealing "Papa!" woke Mary up that morning. The three-year-old was kissing her father and jumping on the bed with delight. Charles was laughing and hugging her. "You're home. Mama, Papa came home," Frances told Mary eagerly.

Mary laughed. "I know. I saw him last night."

"I missed him, Mama."

"And I missed you too, little love," Charles replied as he sat up and pulled his younger daughter into his lap.

"Did you miss me?" Ellie asked sleepily as she climbed over Mary to Charles.

Her father laughed as he pulled her into his lap. "I missed you very much. I missed all of you."

"Did you miss Mama?"

"Of course I did," he replied before kissing Mary's cheek. "I missed her almost more than I could bear."

"Well, don't leave anymore," Ellie told him frankly. "Then you won't need to miss her anymore."

Mary laughed and leaned her head against her husband's chest. "I think that Papa will be here with us for a while."

Charles's arm slid around her shoulders and he rested his chin on her head. "I think I want to stay here with my family for a while."

* * *

Later that day, Mary went into Charles's study while all of the children were sleeping or playing with Bessie. "We need to talk about something," she said as soon as she walked in.

"Is something wrong?" he asked as she walked towards his desk.

Mary took a deep breath. "Why did you never tell me that my father originally intended for me to marry George Boleyn?"

"Who told you that?"

"Answer me," she said firmly.

"Maria," he began softly. "Think back to August when we were first married. If I had told you that your father wanted you to marry George, how would you have handled it? Would it have made you happy or made you like your father?"

She shook her head. "I would have been hurt and angry."

"And I would suppose that you were already hurt that your parents were not at our wedding. I think that you may have felt as if your father was trying to dispose of you."

Mary nodded. "I keep asking myself why he doesn't love me anymore."

Charles walked to her and wiped the tears from her eyes. "Mary, do you remember when I told you that I would do everything in my power to avoid hurting you?"

"On our wedding night," she replied.

He led her to his chair and sat down before pulling her into his lap. "You are my wife and you are carrying my child. I love you and I want what is best for you. I didn't tell you about George because I didn't want to hurt you. And I married you so that the Boleyns couldn't hurt you, so your father couldn't hurt you."

"You're too good to me."

"I am not a perfect man, Maria. I have been married twice, including you, but I have slept with many more than two women. I was not always faithful to your aunt. Until Ellie was born, I was a bad husband."

"What changed?" Mary asked.

"Ellie," he replied with a smile. "When I held that little girl in my arms for the first time, I knew that I had to change. I had to become a better husband, a better person. And for the past four years, I have striven to be the best man I could be."

"Well, thank you for marrying me."

"It was more than a pleasure or an honor. I love you and I am glad that I married you. Now, who told you?"

"Ambassador Chapuys," she replied meekly. "Are you angry with me?"

"Darling Maria, why would I be angry with you?" Charles asked.

She shook her head. "I don't know. But are you angry with Ambassador Chapuys?"

"No, darling, I'm not angry at all. I didn't tell you because I didn't think you needed to know. But at the same time, I am not angry that you know, just sad that the situation exists at all." He put a hand on her belly. "But before you start to worry, I am not sad that we are married or that this little one is coming."

Mary leaned her head against his chest. "Do you know that when I was a little girl I was in love with you?"

"I never knew that," Charles replied with a chuckle. "When did you fall for me?"

"When we went to France when I was a little girl," she replied, blushing.

"When you pushed the dauphin over?" he asked with a teasing smile.

She nodded. "Do you remember what you told me after that?"

"After you were reprimanded by your parents for pushing him?"

"They laughed when I was doing it and I don't think they minded when I did it. But I think that they didn't want it to become something that I thought was acceptable. So they both scolded me and made sure that I knew that I shouldn't push boys. I knew that and I understood, but I was five and upset. And then you came along and picked me up."

Charles smiled. "I think that you spent more of your childhood with me than you did with your father."

"Didn't he used to carry me around the palace when I was very young and call me his perfect pearl?"

"He did, but then he became obsessed with his desire for a son."

"And you kept playing with me. You loved me even though I wasn't a boy."

"At this current moment, I love you more than I could ever love any boy." He put a hand on her belly. "And you're giving me something no boy could."

She smiled and leaned her head against his cheek. "You are wonderful."

"I try," he replied, rubbing his hand over her belly. "I really do try."

Mary felt his hand moving over her belly. "What are you doing?"

"Getting reacquainted with you," he replied. "I knew your body before I went to France for three months. But now that I'm home again, I need to relearn you with this new shape. I still can't believe that I went away for three months and missed part of this."

"All you missed was me worrying about whether or not I really was with child. And I haven't changed much yet. I merely look as if I have been eating too much."

"As your husband, I am inclined to disagree. Your stomach does not feel as if you've been eating too much. And other parts of your body have decidedly changed as well."

Mary giggled as her husband's fingers moved up from her belly to her breasts. "You are getting devious, Your Grace, and it is still early in the day."

"That has never stopped me before," he replied.

**

* * *

February 1533**

* * *

Life fell back into its steady rhythm at Suffolk Manor. Charles and Mary told the children about the baby and, while they were all excited, it was also fairly certain that the only child who really understood the idea of a new baby was Ellie. The other two were still a little young to truly comprehend anything other than the fact that Mama's belly was getting bigger.

Tony Knivert arrived at Suffolk Manor on bleary February afternoon while Charles and Mary were playing with their children. Charles was whirling Frances around in the air while she giggled and squealed. Henry was playing with a wooden sword that his father had made him a few weeks earlier. Ellie was practicing writing the alphabet under her stepmother's watchful eye. Tony stood in the doorway watching the family for a few moments after Mrs. Hastings showed him where they were.

Then, Charles put Frances down and playfully staggered to his wife. "Woman, you must save me. This reckless young lady has made me all bewildered and I know not where I am or who you are."

"Don't be silly, Papa!" Frances said. "That's Mama!"

Tony laughed and Charles turned. "Tony," he exclaimed, hurrying to his friend and embracing him. "What brings you here?"

"Can I not simply visit one of my oldest friends uninvited? I was under the impression that I was always welcome in your home."

"You are. You are most welcome here."

"Wonderful," Tony replied. "Now I need to speak with you privately on urgent royal business."

"Anything you want to say to me, you can say in front of my wife," Charles replied firmly. "I'll send the children out of the room, but Mary can stay."

"The king has ordered me to acquaint you of this news in private."

"Very well," the duke assented with a sigh. "Let us go to my study."

* * *

"His Majesty bid me acquaint you with some news that you will not much like," Tony began slowly when they reached Charles's study.

"He has found a way to quit his lawful wife and marry his harlot, I suppose?"

"Saying that could be construed as treason now. Henry has had his marriage to Katherine declared invalid and subsequently declared Mary a bastard. Furthermore, he has married Anne Boleyn and she is believed to be with child." Tony said all of this without looking at his friend.

"What the hell is his problem?" Charles roared. "Who does Henry think that he is?"

"Furthermore," the other man continued, still not looking at the duke. "Katherine will now be known as the Dowager Princess of Wales and Mary will be known as the Duchess of Suffolk."

"Thank God that Margaret is not alive to see this day come." The duke was pacing his study.

"Charles, don't do anything hasty."

"I have to tell my wife all of what you have just told me, Tony. That will not be an easy act. We knew that it was likely to come but that does not mean it will be easy to bear."

"Also, the king hoped that you would tell the Dowager Princess of his decision."

"Oh he has lost his mind. She is my mother-in-law. I cannot hurt her like that."

"Perhaps the news will be easier to bear coming from you."

"Perhaps," Charles replied bitterly. "If it is the king's will, I shall do it, but I would rather it were your errand than mine."

"That is the king's decision and not ours," Tony said. "But I have a question for you."

"What is it?"

"Is Mary with child?"

A smile broke across the duke's face. "She is."

"Does Henry know?"

"No, we have not yet told him. We know not how to go about it because we are unsure as to how he will respond to the news."

"Charles, if the child is a boy, this could be the heir that Henry desires; do you realize that?"

"Tony, to be honest, I have thought of little else since hearing that she was with child. I fear for the life of this child and of my wife. I do not trust the king or the Boleyns."

"Do you honestly think that Lady Anne would cause harm to the life of the duchess or the baby?"

"I do not know what I think in this situation, Tony. All I know is that I love my wife and children and I do not want harm to come to them. Part of me says that the king and the whole damn succession can go to hell. That part of me is Charles Brandon, loving husband and father."

"You love her? Does Henry know that?"

Charles laughed. "I doubt that he cares. But I do love her. She is smart, beautiful, and funny. She is a devoted mother and a wonderful wife."

"But Charles, what is the king going to do if your wife gives birth to a son?"

"I have no fucking clue. And the other part of me knows that my wife, my sixteen-year-old wife, is the true Princess of Wales and the best heir to the throne. Our sons will be the true and rightful heirs to the throne. But Henry doesn't see it that way. He and the Boleyns refuse to see it that way."

"You have three children who are the king's nieces and nephew. They could be in line for the throne after Henry's heirs. And now you're producing his grandchildren. You really just want to fuck him over."

Charles snorted. "It's not about Henry, Tony. I loved Margaret more than you can imagine and the same goes for Mary. I love her. We're not having this baby so that we can mess up the succession of the English crown. We're doing this because we're two people who love each other and are married to each other."

"Henry won't see it that way. He just let you two get married so he wouldn't have to worry about her anymore. He used you to get her out of the way."

"And he never considered the fact that she could bear a son. I'm capable of fathering a son, Tony. And more than that, I have a legitimate son and two legitimate daughters with another legitimate child on the way. Can Henry match that? I don't think so."

Tony looked at him. "Would you challenge him?"

"Listen to me carefully. If I attempted to put my wife on the throne after Henry's death, the Emperor would support our claim. You know that. And God willing, this will not be our only child. Henry wrote Mary off far too quickly."

"Do you intend to make yourself king?"

"I didn't marry Mary to make myself king and I don't want to be king. But my wife is the true heir to the throne. If no valid male heir can be produced before the king dies, she should be queen."

"Wouldn't that make you the king?"

"I would be quite content to be the Prince Regnant, Tony. I know who I am and where I came from. I am not worthy to be the King of England. Nevertheless, my wife is the Princess of Wales. She is worthy to be the Queen of England. I would be more than content to be her counselor and husband."

"The English people would never accept that," Tony protested.

"God willing, Mary will give birth to a son either in June or at another point in the near future. Then everything will be settled."

"Do you intend to hide her pregnancy from him?"

Charles shook his head. "I'll send him a letter with you. You can tell him."

"You're out of your bloody mind."

"No, you'll tell him that Mary is carrying my child and that I would like to do what he asks and inform my mother-in-law that their marriage is invalid, however I would like assurances that my son or daughter will be protected from anyone who would seek to harm the child of a mere duke before I do so. Also, I would like it if he would consider the possibility of removing the Dowager Princess of Wales to my home so that she may be safely in the loving company of her family."

"So you're planning on acting like the submissive friend and subject that you've always been?"

"I have to," Charles persisted. "I must protect my family and if that means that I hide my true aims for as long as I possibly can without violating my principles, I will do so."

"When did Charles Brandon acquire principles?" Tony mused.

The Duke of Suffolk laughed. "I have always had principles, but I have not always followed them."

"So what should I tell His Majesty?"

"I will write it down for you to give to him. I do not want to bring his anger down on you for my actions."

Tony nodded. "Do what you think is best for you and your family, Charles."

* * *

Sir Anthony stayed at Suffolk that night and as he watched the Brandon family, he began to realize why Charles was standing up for himself and his family so suddenly. Tony had known Charles for close to twenty years but he had never seen his friend this happy. The house rang with laughter and merriment. As he watched Charles interacting with Mary and the children, he began to wonder what it would be like to have a family of his own.

"Papa, I want a pony," Ellie told her father.

Charles laughed. "I could play horse for you."

"No, I want a real pony, one that neighs and eats hay."

"Do you think that I don't neigh or eat hay?"

"Don't be silly, Papa. I know that you don't. You're a person, not a horse."

Charles picked up his daughter and swung her around in circles. "Why do you want a pony?"

"So I can go places," she replied. "You go places on your horse. If I have a horse, I can go places too."

"But Mama is sad when Papa leaves," Frances interjected from her seat next to her mother.

"That's why she's having a baby," Ellie told her younger sister. "When she has the baby, she won't be lonely anymore."

Mary laughed. "Ellie, if that were why I was having the baby, a new baby would not make much difference. I have three children already and a new baby will not replace your father anymore than you three dear children."

"Then what would replace Papa for you?"

"Nothing," Mary whispered. "You children are all dears and I love each one of you. But your father is one of the best men in humanity."

Charles smiled. "And your mother is one of the kindest women in Christendom. She sees the good in everyone even a scoundrel like me."

As Mary laughed and chastely kissed her husband's lips, Tony felt an inner twinge of jealousy. Charles had a wife who clearly loved him and children who worshiped the ground he walked on. But it was more than that. Charles had something to live for beyond King Henry. He believed in something beyond King Henry and the English Court.

Laughter filled the room as Charles swung Frances around in circles. Tony smiled. Charles was a lucky bastard; he had exactly what he wanted in life.

* * *

"So I'm a bastard now?" Mary asked Charles when they were alone in their bedroom that night.

"That's what your father is telling the world," he said softly. He put his hand under her chin and raised it so she was looking straight into his eyes. "But you and I know the truth, Mary. You are not a bastard. Your parents' marriage is valid in the eyes of Christ. And one day, you will be the Queen. I swear that to you by my life. You are not a bastard."

Mary smiled and leaned her head against her husband's. "Why did you marry me, Charles? Being married to me must be more trouble than it's worth."

He laughed and kissed her lips. "I knew what I was getting into when I married you. I knew what your father wanted to do."

She put his hands on her belly. "But were you expecting this?"

The baby kicked just then and Charles laughed. "Mary, I was well-aware that we could have children together. And I knew that they, like their mother, would be the true heirs to the throne of England."

"Did you marry me so that you could be the king?"

"Tony asked me the same question earlier today."

"And what did you tell him?"

"If you become queen, I would be content to be the Prince Regnant and advise you. I do not need to be King Charles. I am not of royal blood, but you are and our children will be. I accept that and I accepted that the day that I agreed to marry you."

The baby kicked again as Charles ran his fingers over his wife's belly. She smiled. "Some days, I wish that we were not in this mess at all and we were just the Duke and Duchess of Suffolk living a quiet life in the country with their children."

"Then let us live like we are the Duke and Duchess of Suffolk," Charles replied. "We will be aware of the outside world and deal with it when we must, but our lives will be centered on our family and the estate."

"I like that idea," Mary said before yawning.

"Then let us start by getting you out of that dress and into bed. In a few days, I have no doubt that your father will summon me to court and I will have to go tell your mother that she is no longer married to your father. But other than that, I think that we will all be here together for a good while."

"As a family," Mary said. "We'll be all together as a family."

"As a family," Charles repeated.

* * *

A/N: Please review!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I don't own what you recognize. And I love my reviewers.

**

* * *

February 1533**

* * *

"Mary is with child," King Henry said flatly, repeating what had just been reported to him. "My daughter, Mary, is with child."

Sir Anthony Knivert nodded. "I have seen her with my own eyes. She is decidedly with child."

Anger flashed in the royal blue eyes. "How could Charles do this to me?"

Tony was a bit confused by this statement as, from his perspective, Charles had done nothing to Henry but rather had done something with Henry's daughter. "I don't follow your meaning. He did nothing to you."

"I wanted him to keep Mary out of the way, not impregnate her. Anne will not like this at all. And I am not sure that I much like it."

Tony shrugged. "I don't think that Charles and Mary were trying to do anything to you. They are a married couple and they conceived a child. That is not unusual. You have done that as well."

The king hated being wrong. "But I did not expect them to conceive a child!"

"Is that not what married couples do? They have intercourse and conceive children."

Henry slammed his fist into the arm of his chair. "Do not contradict me, Sir Anthony. When I gave Charles permission to marry the Lady Mary, I assumed that the marriage would be in name only. I never expected him to force himself on her."

"With all due respect, Your Majesty, the Duchess of Suffolk seems to genuinely love and respect her husband. I do not believe that he has forced anything on her."

"Damn him! Damn him to hell. Who does he think that he is? First, he marries my sister and has three children with her. And now he's married my daughter and impregnated her." He paused for a moment and as he continued, desperation crept into his words. "Tony, the English people will never accept Anne as their queen if Mary's child is a boy."

"It could well be a girl."

"It had better be a girl. I hope that they have lots of girls and no sons." Henry was spitting as he spoke.

* * *

Three days later, Charles Brandon was back at court to find out exactly what Henry wanted him to tell Katherine. "You impregnated Mary," was Henry's first remark to his friend upon seeing him.

"Forgive me if I was wrong, but I was under the impression that the natural course of marriage."

"She is my daughter and you are only the Duke of Suffolk."

Charles was a far wittier man the king gave him credit for being. "As I recall, you summoned me to court to ask me to go tell Mary's mother that her marriage to Your Majesty was invalid. As a result of this, I believe that you have declared my wife, the Duchess of Suffolk, to be a bastard. If this is true, then what is the problem? What danger can our child pose to yourself or your children with your new wife?"

Henry flinched. He had no honest answer to that question, so he chose to strike out against Charles's past. "We both know that you can never be faithful to any woman, Charles. You're incapable of fidelity. No matter whom she is, you always end up breaking your lover's heart."

Charles struggled to remain calm, but he knew that it was necessary. He could not sink betray his emotions; he had to be rational. "Then why did you let me marry your daughter? You used to call her your perfect pearl. If I am incapable of fidelity and guaranteed to break her heart, then why did you let me marry your perfect pearl?"

The king hesitated; Charles had trapped him. So he sidestepped the issue. "I need you to tell Katherine that I have married Anne and she must not try to return to me. Our marriage is over; in fact, it never existed."

"I will tell her. May I also invite her to live at Suffolk Manor with my family?"

"Why would you want to do that?"

"She is my wife's mother and I think that Mary would derive comfort from having her mother near her when she gives birth."

Henry snorted. "If I let those two in a house together, they may well plot to overthrow me. And that I will not allow."

"Very well, Your Majesty," Charles replied placidly. "In fact, I am not certain that the thought of having her mother with her during her confinement has even occurred to my wife. I merely thought to ask as a favor to her during what promises to be a difficult time."

"A difficult time?" Henry repeated. "Is it a difficult pregnancy? Is Mary much distressed?"

The duke chose his words carefully. "It has been, to this point, an easy pregnancy. However, she is only five months gone but already the physicians predict that the baby will be large. The duchess is not a large woman and the birth could be difficult for her. You no doubt remember your sister's fate during a difficult childbirth."

Margaret had died after much difficulty in giving birth to Lord Henry Brandon. The actual pregnancy had been easy when compared with her first two, but the labor had been horrifying. The ghosts of her screams as she struggled to bring his son and heir into the world had not yet left Charles's ears. And the sight of Mary's rapidly growing belly made him fear that she might meet her aunt's fate.

Henry clenched his jaw. "I will bear this into consideration. I do not wish to be unfeeling towards my daughter even if she is illegitimate."

"I assure that we have an excellent physician in Suffolk," Charles replied. "You need not trouble yourself too much over Mary. She is, as you say after all, only your illegitimate daughter."

* * *

Charles left for the More the next morning. Upon his arrival, Lady Elizabeth Darrell escorted him to his mother-in-law. "She will be glad to see you, Your Grace," Lady Elizabeth told him as they walked. "I know that she misses her daughter very much."

"I bring her bitter tidings," Charles replied. "And while I wish to God I had not been appointed this errand, I would not suffer anyone else it."

"Nevertheless, as a mother, she will be glad to see you," she replied before announcing him.

Katherine smiled. "Your Grace, you are welcome here."

"I fear you will not think so when you hear when I must say."

She nodded. "Speak."

Charles looked down at his feet as he spoke, twisting his gloves in his hands. "His Majesty warns you not to return to him now that he has married Lady Anne. He had forbidden you to use the title of queen but from henceforth you shall be known as the Princess Dowager of Wales. And he has cut your household expenses, but he will allow you to keep your property. But he will not longer pay for your servants or your household expenses."

Tears welled in Katherine's eyes as she asked, "What of my daughter, of Mary, may I see her?"

At this, Charles knelt beside her chair and took her hands in his. "My lady, I have good news for you as well. Mary is with child."

A smile lit up her weary face. "And may I see her? Will the king allow me to be with my daughter during her confinement?"

"I asked His Majesty if I might be allowed to convey you to Suffolk Manor so that you may live with our family and be a comfort to Mary during the next few months, but he refused me. He said that he thought that the three of us would simply plot together against him." He laughed blandly at that thought, but pressed on. "I did mention that I fear that the birth may be difficult for Maria. He said that he would bear this into consideration, so we may yet hope that you will someday be allowed to live with us."

"When did you fall in love with her?" Katherine asked, running a tender hand over Charles's bowed head.

"Your Majesty?"

She smiled. "You have fallen in love with my daughter."

He nodded without making eye contact with her. "I cannot tell you when or how, but I have come to love your daughter far more than I ever dreamed possible. The thought of life without her seems almost impossible to me."

"It seems unkind to say this, but you were once the willing puppet of my husband."

"I know. Marriage to your daughter has taught me to live for something greater than myself or to simply succumb to other people's plans and wishes. But how did you know that I had fallen in love with her?"

"You called her Maria."

Charles smiled. "I often call her that in private."

"I am glad that she has you," Katherine told him. "I believe that without you my dear girl would be all alone in this world."

"Sadly, I believe you to be right, Your Majesty."

"Charles, you must not let people hear you call me that, but I am glad of your support. Now, may I offer you some advice as a mother to a son?"

He nodded. "I will hear whatever it is you have to tell me."

"If the child is a boy, name him Henry. It will endear the king to his grandson and improve Mary's chances of being restored to her father's good graces."

"In principle, I agree with your idea, but I already have a son named Henry."

"What do you think of the name Henry-Charles?" she asked.

He smiled. "I think it an excellent name."

"And if the child is a girl, do not name her Katherine for me. Things are far too dangerous for familial sentimentality at present."

"Hopefully someday in the future it will be safe for us to have a daughter named Katherine," Charles said. "But for the present, we will not use that name. We will save it for better days."

The smile on Katherine's face told Charles that he was doing the right thing with his life.

* * *

Charles returned to Whitehall to report his mother-in-law's willingness to comply with the king's demands. He also wanted to ask Sir Thomas More to come and visit the Brandon family in Suffolk. "Mary needs to see people and know that she still matters, that she has friends. My wife needs to know that she has friends and supporters besides me."

Thomas nodded; they were sitting in his private study in his home. "Of course I'll come. You've heard, I'm sure, that I retired from public life."

"Sir Anthony told me, yes."

"Charles, you of all people must understand my situation. I had no other option."

Charles smiled. "I understand entirely. Believe me, Thomas. I am entirely consumed in protecting my private life. But we can speak at more length when you come to Suffolk. Right now, I should like to get home to Suffolk and my family."

"Of course, I am sure that the duchess and your children miss you. But I have just one last question. How is the duchess doing these days?"

"She is well. In fact, she is with child."

Sir Thomas smiled. "I believe that I am beginning to understand your reluctance to remain away from home any longer than necessary."

Charles laughed. "I think that I am needed at home to be honest."

"Then go. I'm sure that your lovely wife will be thrilled to have you home."

"Mary is one of those wives who are always pleased to see their husbands return."

**

* * *

March 1533**

* * *

Mary was indeed pleased to see her husband return. So were his children. Without Papa, piggyback rides were in short supply at Suffolk Manor, according to Ellie. But based upon the fact she refused to let go of his legs for the first fifteen minutes he was in the house, she appeared to have missed more than his piggyback rides. And so life in the Brandon family returned to normal. Henry learned to say more words every day and Ellie learned to write more words. Frances tried to learn everything that Ellie was learning. Mary's abdomen was rapidly expanding, faster than what Charles remembered from any of Margaret's three pregnancies. He began to contemplate the possibility that this pregnancy could be detrimental to Mary's life until one day, Mary came to him with a strange question. "Charles, why is it that I felt the baby kick me on my right side near my ribs and then immediately after on my left side near my hip?"

Charles jumped up from his desk and rushed to her. He put his hands on her belly and felt the same thing that his wife had felt minutes earlier. One kick came from near her ribs and then a second nearer her hip. He bit his lip and furrowed his brow. He ran his fingers over her belly. "Mary, is it possible that there could be two babies?"

She looked up at him with confused eyes. "Two babies, how?" she asked.

"Twins, Maria," he replied with a smile. He took her hands and put one of them where each of the kicks had come from. "This is one baby," he said, touching her right side. Then, he touched her left side while saying, "And this is the other baby."

"Two babies," she said softly as she felt the two different kicks. "Charles, we're going to have two babies."

He kissed her. He wasn't really sure what else to do. What other response was there to the realization that your beloved wife was carrying two babies within her womb?

"Tell no one," he whispered in her ear as suddenly as the thought occurred to him.

Mary looked up at her husband. "Why?"

He shook his head. "I worry for your safety and that of the babies. I don't want to lose you or our babies."

Mary ran a hand along Charles's face. "Darling, you worry about me too much."

"It's a husband's duty."

"I thought that it was the wife and mother who was supposed to do the worrying," Mary teased.

"That is the standard rule," he replied. "However, our situation is a bit unusual. After all, I am sixteen years your senior and you are the heir to the throne of England. So, I have a bit more life experience than you that makes me more inclined to worry. However, the fact that you are the true heir to a contested throne only gives me more reason to worry about you."

"And you think that I do not worry about you when you are away?"

"Do you?" he asked.

Mary nodded. "Whenever you are summoned to court, I worry that my father will do something to prevent your return. And when I learned that I was with child, I began to fear that he would find it an excuse to have you executed. I do not know what I would do if I lost you."

Charles looked down. "Maria, my love, what are we going to do? We each worry about the other."

"I suppose it is the reality of our situation."

"We love each other and yet we live in a precarious world where we never know what will happen next."

Mary tilted her husband's chin upwards and then kissed it. "I am glad that I have you, my love. I think that you are the truest friend I have ever had."

"I suppose that in times of distress we discover what we are really capable of and who we really are."

"And you have shown yourself to be an honorable man."

Charles kissed his wife's fingertips. "That is the sort of husband that a princess deserves."

**

* * *

April 1533**

* * *

Sir Thomas More was not able make his way to Suffolk until April due to personal family matters and the weather. But upon his arrival, he found a warm and merry Brandon family. He arrived in the early afternoon of a Friday afternoon to find the family in the garden. It was quite a shock to him to see Mary heavily with child when he had not seen her since she was nine years old. "You have grown up into quite a beautiful young lady, Your Highness," he told her upon encountering her sitting on a bench.

Mary smiled. "Thank you, Sir Thomas. And thank you for coming all the way to Suffolk to see us."

"It is a pleasure to be here. Now where exactly is your husband? Your housekeeper said that I would find the whole family in the garden, but I only see you."

"Charles is playing with the children. He has hidden somewhere in the garden and they must find him. I can try to find him for you if you like."

Sir Thomas smiled. "No, I can wait. I don't want to interrupt the duke's time with his children. How are the children faring?"

"They love having their father at home with them. Eleanor is a mischievous little girl, but she is a dear little girl. Frances is an angel. And Henry is growing so quickly. They're wonderful children. I love them."

Just then, the angel came running towards them, her dark brown curls dancing behind her. "Mama, I can't find Papa."

Mary bit her lower lip and then smiled. "I don't know where he is. You'll have to keep looking. Where is your little brother?"

"He's with Ellie."

"Could you bring him to me, please?"

Frances nodded and ran off again.

"Where exactly is His Grace?" Sir Thomas asked as the little girl walked away.

Mary laughed. "Look under the bench."

Her companion looked at her with a raised eyebrow but then looked under the bench where he saw the Duke of Suffolk curled up under the bench. "What are you doing?"

Charles smiled and pressed a finger to his lips.

Sir Thomas shook his head. "He is a good father."

Mary swung a foot and hit her husband who started laughing. "But he's bad at hiding," she replied as Ellie, Frances, and Henry came running towards them.

"I hear Papa!" Ellie said.

"But where is he?" Mary asked with a mischievous smile.

"Down under you," Frances said.

Charles laughed again.

"He can't hide no more," Frances protested.

"Any more, not no more," Charles said as he climbed out from under the bench. He dusted his legs off as he added, "Welcome to our home, Sir Thomas."

Sir Thomas smiled. "Thank you. Were you really under the bench the whole time?"

"I was. I thought that I should have come out to greet you, but then I decided that you're a father and you would understand the game."

"I do indeed."

Charles picked his son up. "Did you have fun, Henry?"

The little blond boy laughed. "I like games."

"So do I," his father replied as he started to tickle his son. "And I like this game especially."

"Charles, I think that we should invite our guest inside the house and offer him refreshment," Mary told her husband.

"Sir Thomas, would you like to come inside with us?" the duke offered as he stood up.

"I certainly would."

"Charles, could you give me a hand standing up?" Mary asked.

Her husband smiled as he put Henry down and laughed as Sir Thomas immediately picked the little boy up. "Natural paternal instinct, Your Grace," he said.

Charles laughed. "Thank you. I'm sure that Henry appreciates your help."

"And now your wife would appreciate it if you would help her to her feet," Mary said with a teasing glimmer in her eyes.

"Of course, darling," he replied before helping her stand up.

"Why does Mama need help standing up?" Ellie asked. "Is it because of the baby?"

"Yes, dear," her mother replied as she leaned against her husband. "I'm tired and Papa helps me."

"Why are you tired? Are you ill?"

Charles wrapped one arm around his wife and kissed her forehead. "Don't worry, Ellie. Mama will be fine, but carrying the baby all the time makes her tired."

"Can't she put the baby down?"

"Not yet, not until June," Mary replied with a smile. "Why don't you take Frances and go find Bessie? I think she could find something for you girls to do instead of listening to the adults talking."

The adults all laughed as the two girls ran off towards the house without another word.

"Now we can go in," Charles said to his wife.

"Thank you," she replied, taking his free hand in hers. "I truly am tired."

"Two more months and then I can help you carry them," he whispered in her ear.

* * *

"Does the king know that Princess Mary is with child?" Sir Thomas asked once he and the Brandons were in the house.

"He does," Charles replied.

"And what was his reaction?"

"He wanted to know how Charles could do that to him," Mary said with a smile.

Sir Thomas shook his head. "Of course he made it about himself."

"He never considered that we weren't thinking about him when this child was conceived."

"You have grown up a bit, Princess."

Mary laughed. "I suppose that marriage, the sudden acquisition of three children, and pregnancy will do that to one."

Charles smiled and squeezed his wife's hand. "I think you'll find that Mary has changed quite a bit from the little girl who pushed the Dauphin over."

She blushed. "I was a little girl! Why we keep returning to that incident?"

Her husband winked. "It's my favorite memory of you as a little girl."

"Find a new one," she teased.

"To take a more serious turn in the conversation, are you at all worried by His Majesty's reaction?" Sir Thomas asked with a bemused sparkle in his eye as he watched the pair.

Charles ran a hand over his head and sighed. "That is the eternal question in our lives. Should we worry? We don't know."

"But we worry anyway," Mary said. "We don't know what my father will do when the babies are born."

"Babies?" Sir Thomas repeated.

"Twins," Charles said meekly. "We're trying to keep it a secret."

"Understandably so, and I give you my word that I won't tell a soul, not even Alice."

Mary smiled. "We worry that my father might be angered if I give birth to a son."

"Tony Knivert told me that when Henry first heard that Mary was with child, he said that he hoped that we had many daughters and no sons."

"And we fear that Henry might think killing Charles a suitable reward if I give birth to a son or to two sons."

Charles squeezed Mary's hand as Sir Thomas said, "Or this could overturn all of his decisions with regard to the line of succession and the Lady Anne."

"We don't allow ourselves to really think about that idea," Mary admitted. "I think we might be afraid to hope that anything so good could happen to us."

"Well, I pray that something so good would happen to you," Sir Thomas told her with a fatherly smile.

* * *

A/N: Please review!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I don't own what you recognize. And I love my reviewers; you guys rock.

**

* * *

May 1533**

* * *

Late May found Mary Brandon, Duchess of Suffolk very ready to give birth. Her belly had expanded to the point where she could no longer fit into her night-shift and had taken to wearing one of Charles's instead. "I feel like a cow," she told him one night when they were in bed.

He smiled. "I still think you're beautiful."

"You're my husband. You have to say that."

He kissed her and ran his hands over her breasts and belly. "I'm not just saying that because I'm your husband. I'm saying it because it's true."

"I'm tired of being pregnant, Charles. I'm enormous. I can barely walk anymore. My back hurts. I'm ache everywhere. I'm always hungry. And I complain all the time."

Her husband laughed. "Just a few more weeks and then the babies will be here."

"I'm not sure I can wait a few more weeks," Mary replied, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"I think you can."

"No, Charles, I am really sure that I cannot wait a few more weeks," she said. "I think that the babies are coming now."

"Do you want me to get Mrs. Hastings or Maggie?" he asked tentatively.

"Give me your bloody hand!" she exclaimed.

He held out a hand and she squeezed it. She was obviously in pain. When she finally let go of his hand, it was red and hurting, but he could tell from the look on her face that complaining was not worthwhile. She was in far more pain than his hand was. "Should I get Mrs. Hastings now?" he asked.

She nodded while biting her lower lip.

"Maria, I will be right back and Mrs. Hastings will be here in no time at all."

"It hurts, Charles," she moaned. "I've never been in this much pain.

"I can't imagine," he replied, kissing her sweaty forehead. "And I will be right back."

* * *

A few minutes later, Mrs. Hastings and Maggie were in the room with Mary, a manservant had been dispatched to fetch the physician, and Charles was sitting on the floor outside the bedroom clutching his rosary. He stayed there for five hours. He could hear his wife crying and all he could think of was the horrible night in August of 1531 when Margaret had given birth to Henry but lost her own life in the process. He did not want to repeat the experience. When he had told Mary about his fears a few days earlier, she had promised him that their first daughter would be named Margaret.

After five brutal hours in the hallway, he heard a hush from the room and then a soft mewing. Then, Maggie came out of the bedroom. "Your Grace," she said softly.

He looked up. "Yes? Is everything all right?"

"Mrs. Hastings wanted me to tell you that the first baby has been born and it's a boy."

"And how is the duchess?"

"Her Grace is doing well. She is very strong and Mrs. Hastings and the physicians think the second baby should be born soon." She paused for a second. "Would you like to see the baby?"

He smiled and nodded. Tears were in the corners of his eyes and he couldn't speak. A son, he had a son and the king had a grandson.

"I'll be back in a moment, Your Grace," she replied, bobbing a quick curtsy before running back into the bedroom.

Charles kissed the rosary in his hands before standing up. "Thank you, God," he whispered.

A moment later, Maggie was back with a little bundle in her arms. "Would you like to hold him, Your Grace?"

"Please," he replied. She put the baby into his arms and he smiled.

"I need to go back to Her Grace. Will you be all right by yourself with the baby?"

Charles smiled. "He is not my first child, Maggie. I will be quite fine with him for a few minutes."

She smiled. "Of course, Your Grace, I didn't think of that. I should be getting back to Her Grace now."

After Maggie left, Charles looked down at the little baby in his arms. He had a small red face and a full head of brown hair. "You, Charles-Henry, have changed the world. You may not understand it yet but you have. But I want you to know something. I don't care if you're a prince, a king, or only the second son of a duke. You are my son and I love you because you are my son."

The baby yawned and stretched a little red arm into the air at that. Charles smiled and pressed his lips to the baby's forehead. Just then, he heard loud screaming from the bedroom followed by soft mewing.

"I suppose your twin has arrived, Charles-Henry." He knew that his mother-in-law had suggested "Henry-Charles" but he didn't want to have two sons named Henry. He much preferred using Henry had the new baby's second name. And Mary liked this arrangement because she wanted to call the new baby "Charlie."

Maggie burst into the hallway just then. "Your Grace, it's a girl! The second baby is a girl."

Charles laughed. "May I see my wife and the baby yet?"

"Just a moment," she replied. "Mrs. Hastings wants to get Her Grace and the baby cleaned up before you see them."

"Of course," he replied. "Please let me know when I can come in."

"I will, Your Grace," she said before hurrying back into the bedroom.

* * *

Finally, Mrs. Hastings came out. "Your Grace, Her Grace and the new baby are ready to see you."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hastings," he said before following her into the room. And there was Mary. She looked as tired as he felt, but she was beautiful. And she was holding the second baby in her arms.

"You did it," he said as he sat down next to her. "Maria, you did it and you survived."

She smiled up at him before she leaned her head against his shoulder. "And now I want to sleep."

"Can I meet our daughter first?"

Mary laughed. "I want to meet our son. And we ought to name them."

"I already started calling him Charles-Henry," Charles told her with a smile.

"I approve," his wife replied. "And I promised you that this little girl would be Margaret."

"Margaret and Charles-Henry," he said.

Mary smiled and whispered, "Our babies."

"Maria, I love you. And the fact that you have just given me two beautiful children only makes me love you more."

"You don't mind," she began.

"Maria, my love, what is there for me to mind? You have given me two children. I have told you before that I love having daughters. I told you once before that I love Ellie and Frances just as much as I love Henry. That is still true. I love Margaret, Ellie, and Frances just as much as I love Henry and Charles. Sons or daughters, it is all the same to me."

"You are so different from my father."

He smiled. "Yes, I am. And I'm proud of that."

Mary laughed just as little Margaret opened her eyes, which only made her mother laugh more. "She is so beautiful."

"She gets that from her mother."

"Charles, I'm so tired," the new mother sighed, leaning her heavy head against her husband's chest.

"I can't imagine why. It's nearly dawn, Mary. We've been awake all night."

"Mrs. Hastings said you sat outside the room all night until Maggie told you that Charlie had come."

He nodded. "I was worried about you, love."

"Well, I survived. And what's more, I give you notice that I intend to survive for quite a long time."

Charles pressed his lips against the top of his wife's head. "And for that, I am truly grateful. However, I have to leave for court tomorrow for that bitch's coronation and I am not grateful for that at all."

"You'll be gone for a week. Mrs. Hastings will take care of us."

"But I don't want to leave."

"If you don't leave, then my father will chop off your head and then I'll be alone with five children forever instead of just for a week."

"Very well, my darling," Charles replied. "But I will be back here as soon as His Majesty can spare me."

**

* * *

June 1533**

* * *

Charles went to London and Mary stayed in Suffolk with their children and Catherine Willoughby, Charles's ward who had lived with a governess on her deceased parents' estate until very recently, arrived the same day. Charles had arranged for the fifteen-year-old Catherine to be brought to Suffolk Manor after the twins' birth to help Mary with the children and to offer Catherine a more stable home as well as better opportunities for marriage. Upon her arrival, she had immediately proved useful in entertaining Ellie, Frances, and Henry.

The three older children doted upon their younger brother and sister. Ellie was the most useful to Mary in practical manners but even Henry wanted to spend time holding little Charles and Margaret. "Hold Chas," was his favorite thing to say to his mother, who would willingly hand him his little brother to hold and kiss.

Mary was still confined to her chambers, having not yet been churched. "To tell you the truth, I am glad to be here still," she told her maid, Maggie, a few days after her husband's departure. "I still ache something terrible from the birth and I am not quite ready to be up and moving about the house."

"Do you miss His Grace?" Maggie asked her mistress. "You always seem sadder when he leaves."

Mary smiled. "Are you married, Maggie?"

"No, I have never had the opportunity. I am still young though."

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen, Your Grace," was the reply.

Now the duchess laughed. "You are older than me. I am only seventeen and I am married."

"But you are the king's daughter."

"I am the king's bastard daughter," Mary replied bitterly.

"I don't mean to speak above my station, but I don't think that's true. And I know that His Grace doesn't think that's true at all."

"Unfortunately, His Majesty does not think much of my husband's opinions currently."

"Then why did the king summon His Grace to London?"

Mary sighed. "The king has taken a new wife and is having her crowned Queen of England, today in fact. Therefore, he wishes to have his whole court in London for the coronation. And being the king, he can have whatever he wants. He wants my husband to act like the loving, devoted loyal subject for a week. In exchange, His Grace can keep his head."

Maggie smiled. "Your Grace is very lucky in your husband."

"And I miss him."

* * *

Charles felt similarly about his wife. Watching Henry and Anne disgusted him. He knew how miserable Katherine was. And he missed his own wife. "I have infant twins, newborns, at home," he told Tony. "I should be there."

"The king wants you here. Pretend that you're happy about it."

Charles smiled. "I doubt you'd be so placid if you were the one who had to leave his family behind right after his wife gave birth."

"That would be why I didn't volunteer myself to marry Henry's bastard daughter," Tony replied gleefully before swallowing a swig of beer. "You always were the dumb one."

"You wouldn't understand, Tony."

"I understand that you love your family but I don't understand why you do."

"You need a wife. Then you'll understand."

* * *

"How is your family?" Henry asked Charles. It was three days after Queen Anne's coronation and Charles had a private audience with the king and queen-and Thomas and George Boleyn.

"They are all quite well," the Duke of Suffolk replied.

"And the duchess, I hear that she is with child," Queen Anne said, resting a proud hand upon the belly she claimed was carrying Henry's son. "How is she?"

"The duchess is actually no longer with child," Charles began slowly. "She gave birth the day before I left for London."

"Did she give you a son or a daughter?" Henry asked with an eager eye.

"She gave me a lovely daughter whom we named Margaret."

"I knew she would bear a daughter," Anne said gleefully. "I will bear a son, but Katherine's daughter can only give birth to a girl. This is a sure sign from God that I am the rightful queen of England."

Charles coughed softly. "I beg Your Majesty's pardon, but the duchess also gave birth to a healthy son whom we named Charles-Henry."

"Twins, she bore twins," Henry said. "Why did you not tell met this earlier?"

"There was no opportunity. You were busy with the preparations for the queen's coronation and I did not think it would be an appropriate time to trouble you with news about your bastard daughter."

"You thought wisely, Your Grace," Thomas Boleyn began in his oily, condescending tone.

But King Henry raised his hand, cutting his father-in-law off. "You presumed to know the thoughts of a king, Charles. I am pleased by this news that Mary has given you a son. This is joyous news."

"He is merely the second son of a duke who already has an heir," Charles replied artfully. "We are glad to have a son of course, but I have an heir already. I suppose that little Charles-Henry will find himself destined for the Church."

"He is the grandson of the king. Surely something better than that could be found for him."

Anne coughed. "But his mother is a bastard. We do not need to do too much for Mary's son. We have our own son to think of."

"Her Majesty is right," Charles replied. "You do not need to worry yourself over my son. I can care for both my sons and my daughters."

Henry flinched, but before he could say anything, his wife spoke. "Your Grace, you are wise. You have a great deal of respect for the royal family and that gives both of us great pleasure."

"As a father myself, I understand the burden of family and I do not wish to impose my own family on anyone else."

Anne smiled haughtily. "You are showing yourself to be a loyal friend to His Majesty."

"I strive to do this as much as possible," Charles replied. "However, I would like His Majesty's leave to return to Suffolk and my family. I dislike the idea of leaving my wife alone with five children."

"Surely you have servants who are fully capable of caring for your children," Anne protested.

"I do, however, I would like to return home to care for my newborn children myself. I believe in being an active parent."

Thomas Boleyn shook his head. "But surely you could better serve your king and your country here at court."

The king raised his hand again. "If Charles prefers to remain in the countryside with his family, he may. Also, if you would like to return to Suffolk today, you may."

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

* * *

Later that day found Charles in his quarters preparing to return home. Thomas Boleyn also found the duke there. "Your Grace, I would like to speak with you before you depart."

"Certainly, what can I do for you?"

"I merely wish to thank you for your support of my family. We were uncertain about how you would react to Queen Anne's coronation after your marriage to the Lady Mary but we are pleased to see you so willing to support us."

Charles smiled. "I strive to put the good of my family above my politics."

Thomas Boleyn looked at him. "Are you criticizing me?"

"No, I am merely stating what my position with regard to my family is. I do not seek to judge others but merely to explain my own personal opinions and decisions. Now, if you will excuse me, I think that everything is ready for my departure and I would not like to be on the road too late into the night."

Before Thomas could say anything, the king burst into Charles's chambers. "Boleyn, leave us. I must speak with His Grace in private."

"But Your Majesty," Thomas began.

Henry raised his hand fiercely. "Leave us."

The Earl of Wiltshire bustled out of the room and the king looked at the Duke of Suffolk. "I wish to speak with you about your children with Mary."

"Of course," Charles replied. In his mind, the old fear that Henry would kill him for this came back.

"I want to give your new son some sort of title so that he will not have to join the Church. I know the burden of being the second son and I would not wish my grandson to suffer like that."

"As I said earlier, we would be grateful for any kindness that you show towards Charles-Henry, but you do not need to worry about the children of your bastard daughter. I can provide for my children."

"I'm sure you can, but I want to do something for Mary and her family."

Charles sighed. "I understand that. May I ask Your Majesty a question?"

"Of course," Henry replied with an easy smile.

"When was the last time you saw the duchess?"

"It's been a few years. I'm not entirely certain but I know that it has been a few years."

"Before our wedding, I had not seen the duchess since the last time she had been at Your Majesty's court, which had been seven years earlier," Charles replied, trying to be placid and rational. "If you want to do something for her, I would invite you to come visit our family in Suffolk. I think you would be amazed at what you saw."

"I do not think that Queen Anne would like that very much."

"That is possible. And if you cannot come, we understand. However, you are always welcome in our home."

"And may I bestow some sort of title on your son?"

"If you so desire," Charles replied. "That is your decision, not mine. However, I really ought to be on my way home. I would like to be wiht my wife and the new babies right now."

"I have one more thing to tell you, Charles."

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

Henry took a deep breath. "I have decided to allow the Dowager Princess of Wales to come live with you in Suffolk. In fact, I have already sent Knivert to collect her and take her to your house."

Charles grinned. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Mary has given birth to a son. She deserves to have her mother with her."

"I can assure Your Majesty that she will be most grateful."

"I am glad. Now you may leave."

* * *

While her husband was in London, Mary was churched on the eighth day after the twins' birth. She had gone to the church and submitted to the tradition of the Church early that morning. She had wanted to wait until Charles was home but she also wanted to follow the Church's rules. So she was churched. She wanted to have the twins baptized but Charles had told her to wait until he returned because he was bringing Sir Thomas More with him to be the twins' godfather. Catherine Willoughby would be the godmother. Catherine had proved to be an immense help to Mary and they were good companions. She enjoyed the Brandon children's company and they adored her. And she left Mary's hands free for Margaret and little Charles.

After supper and putting the children to bed the day Mary was churched, Mary and Catherine were sitting by the fire sewing when they heard the sound of approaching horses. "Could it be His Grace and Sir Thomas?" Catherine asked.

"I know not," Mary replied, setting down the baby dress she had been sewing. "It sounds like a carriage is coming and Charles did not take the carriage. He claims he does not need it for his horse will suit him just fine."

"But who else could it be?"

"I cannot even guess. Sir Anthony Knivert has visited us a few times since our marriage but he would know that Charles is away from home and therefore would have no reason to visit us." Mary and Charles were hoping to induce Tony to marry Catherine but the pair had not yet met, so there was no reason to hope for anything yet.

Then, they heard footsteps in the hall. "It sounds like more than one person," Catherine said.

And then Mrs. Hastings shrieked. "Your Grace, who, what, Your Majesty, what are you doing here? Her Grace is in the drawing room, Your Grace, but…"

"My father?" Mary asked. "It couldn't be."

"Maria!" Charles's voice called from the hallway. "Come here. Someone is here whom I want you to see."

Mary stood up slowly and walked into the hall where she saw Sir Anthony, Sir Thomas, her husband, and her mother. "Mama?" she said. "How have you come to be here?"

"His Majesty has graciously permitted me to move to your home as a sign of favor towards you after the birth of your son," Katherine of Aragon told her daughter.

Charles quickly noted that his wife was trembling and put an arm about her waist. She leaned against him before saying, "He is most kind. But how came you to be here?"

"Tony brought her," Charles told his wife. "And I brought Sir Thomas so that we can have the twins baptized on the morrow."

Mary smiled. "Where will we put all of these people?"

"Your mother can take my bedroom and that still leaves us with two guest rooms, which Sir Thomas and Tony can use."

"Of course," she replied. "I'm sorry. I'm tired and I'm not thinking clearly."

Charles kissed her forehead. "That is perfectly understandable. Mrs. Hastings, could you please show everyone to their rooms? I'm going to take my wife upstairs."

"Perhaps my mother would like to see the babies?" Mary asked.

"Are they awake?"

"Well, no, but I feel certain that they will be shortly. They will need to be fed soon."

"I take it that you have not employed a wet nurse in this family?" Tony asked with an odd glint in his eye.

Mary blushed as she shook her head and Charles smiled. "Mary, like Margaret before her, felt that it is the duty of a mother to feed her children herself."

"I have no higher demands upon my time than my children's needs," Mary said. "There is no reason why I cannot feed my own children from my own breast."

Her mother smiled. "If you were Queen of England, they would not allow you to do so."

"Then it is good that I am not queen. I much prefer my quiet country life."

Katherine walked to her daughter and put a hand on her shoulder. "My precious Mary, you have grown so much since I last saw you."

Seeing a look she knew well in the duke's eyes, Mrs. Hastings led the other guests out of the room at this juncture and young Catherine Willoughby also slipped off to her own room.

Meanwhile, Mary smiled and squeezed her mother's hand. "Mama, it has been many years and many things have happened."

"Over the past few years, I began to doubt that you would ever be married or have your own family."

Charles smiled as his wife leaned closer against his body and said, "Mama, we have every reason in the world to be grateful to His Grace for his benevolence towards us."

"Love is a powerful motivator," Katherine told her daughter.

"So is compassion. And this marriage began with compassion. Love followed later," Mary replied before yawning.

Mrs. Hastings slipped back into the room as the duke smiled. "You two can converse at longer length in the morning. We have all had a long day and I think now is the time to retire."

"Good night, Mama," Mary said, kissing her mother on the cheek. "Mrs. Hastings will show you to your room."

"Good night, Maria," Katherine said, kissing her daughter and caressing her daughter's cheek. "I am glad to have you back in my life."

"Sleep well, Your Majesty," Charles said, kissing her cheek. "We will see you in the morning."

* * *

"They're sleeping in our room?" Charles asked in a soft voice as he walked into his bedroom and found two cradles, each one holding a sleeping baby, on the floor.

"I need to feed them at night," Mary replied with a teasing smile. "It makes my life easier. Also, today was the first day that I even left the bedroom at all."

"You were in the bedroom all day for eight days and I wasn't here to enjoy any of it?" Charles asked.

"It wasn't very enjoyable, darling. Today was the first day I could walk without pain from the birth. And I spend much of my days feeding one or the other of the babies. I feel as though I always have a baby attached to my breast."

Her husband ran a thumb over her cheek. "I'm sorry I wasn't here to help."

She kissed his cheek. "It is fine, Charles. I love them and I don't mind them one bit. I'm glad I am their mama."

As she yawned, he began undoing her dress. "Let's get you some rest then, Maria."

"Gladly," she replied. "I have missed you so very much."

* * *

A/N: Please review!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I don't own what you recognize. Please keep the reviews coming as they motivate me to keep writing. When there are fewer reviews, I begin to think that maybe the story isn't as good as it could be.

**

* * *

August 1533**

* * *

The summer of 1533 flew by the Brandon family. Charles and Mary largely blamed this on sleep deprivation due to the care of five children-including two newborns. The babies grew quickly. Before Charles or Mary knew what was happening, it was August and the babies were three months old. The summer had been peaceful for the inhabitants of Suffolk Manor. Sir Thomas More had visited occasionally and was viewed as a sort of benevolent grandfather by the three older Brandon children. Tony Knivert visited often-ostensibly to see Charles, but his visits had always included strolls in the garden with the lovely young Catherine Willoughby. And she encouraged these attentions, having confided in Mary that "Sir Anthony has a rough exterior but he's a good man underneath it all. He just needs the right hand to soften him."

Katherine of Aragon was blending into the household nicely. The gardens had fallen into disrepair after the death of Charles's first wife and while Mary had desired to do something about them, pregnancy had impeded her. But Katherine found the gardens worthy of her attentions. Her attentions to the gardens had also won her the friendly admiration of Mrs. Hastings who wanted to see the naturally beautiful grounds of Suffolk Manor made to look their absolute best.

King Henry had not come to visit the Brandon family but that didn't surprise any of the residents of Suffolk House. "Why would he come to us when he has the Lady Anne whispering promises of a son in his ear?" Mary asked Charles one evening in late August when the family was sitting in the garden after supper.

He shrugged and adjusted little Charlie on his hip. "I know not. I had hoped that this little one would motivate him to visit you, but apparently I was wrong."

"It is fine, darling," Mary replied, bouncing baby Margaret on her lap. "I like our life the way it is and without him, it can continue as always. We are simply a comfortably situated family living in the country with my beloved mother and your dear ward."

Charles laughed and kissed his baby daughter's cheek. "We are that. Meg, we have a very charming life here in Suffolk. I like it more than I could ever like the king's court."

Meg smiled and gurgled, which made her father laugh. Her grandmother, who was sitting nearby with young Henry, smiled. "What happened to the ambitious Charles Brandon who was willing to beg on his hands and knees to be brought back to Court?"

"He died somewhere in Suffolk while holding a newborn baby girl about five years ago," Charles replied, running a thumb down his infant son's cheek.

"Speaking of Ellie, where is she?" Mary asked.

"Chasing Cate around," Katherine replied. Charles had decided that calling Catherine Willoughby "Cate" made it easier to differentiate between her and his mother-in-law. The name stuck after Ellie picked it up. Ellie adored Cate from the day they met and quickly became the older girl's shadow. Frances, on the other hand, stayed close to her stepmother's skirts or her father's legs. Charles was often spotted walking around with his three-year-old attached to his leg.

Young Henry had, in a slightly ironic turn of affairs, attached himself to Queen Katherine. He played with his sisters and was often found playing in his father's study while Charles worked. But for some reason unknown to anyone, he adored his newfound grandmother. She would sing Spanish lullabies to him that quickly became the only way of lulling him to sleep.

But at that moment in the garden, the little boy was content to simply sit in his grandmother's lap and be bounced while he played with a wooden horse his father had made him. "He's very much like Margaret in some ways," Katherine commented.

"I see more of her in Eleanor," Charles replied as his oldest daughter ran by him followed by Cate Willoughby. "Eleanor has Margaret's fire and energy. Henry is stubborn and determined like his mother, but he is much calmer than she ever was."

Katherine laughed. "She was a fiery woman, but she had a good heart. This little one has a very kind heart."

"I like to think that our children inherited their kind hearts from both of their parents."

Mary laughed. "I think we all know that Charles has a kind heart."

"If I can teach my children one thing, it would be to be good people and to make the world a better place," Charles replied. "And I want my sons to be better men than I have been."

"You are not a bad man," his mother-in-law said in a cautioning tone. "You should not be so hard on yourself."

"I have not always been a good man," he insisted.

"That is not the same thing, husband," Mary told her husband. "And I want to hear no more of this self-effacing. You are a good man and I am honored to be your wife."

Just then, Charlie let out a cry that his mother had come to know well as his cry of hunger. She laughed. "Take Meg, darling, and I'll take care of him."

"I'd help him if I could," Charles told his wife as they traded babies.

This only made her laugh more. "You are a dear and a very devoted father, but this is one duty that is all mine."

"She has grown up so much," Katherine commented to her son-in-law as he sat down next to her. "I am constantly amazed to see how much she has changed from the little girl I sent to Ludlow Castle all those years ago."

Charles smiled. "I know what you mean. When I agreed to marry her, I did it because of my memories of that little girl."

"You were so devoted to her when she was a child. I remember watching you chase her around gardens and carry her around castles. There were days when I thought you cared more for her than her father did."

"He does love her; I believe that he loves her as much as he is capable of loving. But he only remembers that little girl. He hasn't seen what I have seen in the past year. Maria has grown so much."

"She became a wife and a mother," Katherine said, stroking the head of the little boy in her lap.

"I think it's more than that," Charles replied. "I'm not sure that I can explain it but I think that it had something to do with the way that her father has treated her in this last year."

"I can see that, but I think it also has something to do with the contrast between the way that Henry has always treated her and the way that you treat her."

"Do you mean that I am capable of truly loving someone or appreciating them unlike Henry?"

"I like to think that Henry did once love me."

"But he has lost something over the past few years. On the other hand, I think that Mary has gained something over the past year."

"Besides a husband and five children?" Katherine asked in a teasing tone.

Charles laughed. "Joke if you want, but that's not all she's gained."

Before the conversation could go any further, Frances came running to her father. "Papa, I'm tired."

He picked her up with his free arm and settled her on his lap. "Is it time for you to go to bed?"

"No, I can sleep here," she replied leaning her head against his chest.

He shook his head and smiled. "You are so much like your mother."

"Mary or Margaret?" Katherine asked.

"Both of them," Charles replied. "Frances is far more like Mary than she is like Margaret. But all three of them, and little Meg, have a propensity for falling asleep when I hold them."

True to his word, both of his daughters were asleep in his arms. Katherine smiled. "You always were a natural with children. I remember Mary used to sleep in your arms far more readily than she ever slept for her father."

He shook his head. "That's amusing. She told me once that she falls asleep much more easily if I am home than when I am away."

"I think that is natural for most married couples. I remember Margaret felt the same way about you. To be perfectly honest, I think that having heard her confidences about you helped me feel secure that you would be a good husband to my Mary."

"And having lived with us for almost three months now, how do you feel?"

"You are the husband that I always hoped she would find."

* * *

"Your father will probably summon us to court after the harlot gives birth," Charles told Mary that night when they were alone in their room. Alone in their room actually meant that the twins were with them, but it was as close as they could get to being alone in their own home.

"Both of us?" she asked.

He nodded. "I've met your father before. He will want to make a show of the affair and it will look good if both of us are there."

Mary sighed. "I haven't been to court since I was about twelve, maybe even younger."

"You'll be fine, darling," Charles replied, adjusting baby Charlie who was sleeping on his father's bare chest. "I will be with you and I'll help you."

"I'm not afraid," she began softly. "I'm unsure. I grew up at Court and it was all I knew. I suppose I was happy there. But now, this is my life. I am happier here than I was there."

"What are you unsure of, my love?" he asked.

Mary smiled. "I do not want to go back there. I like being here with our family. Here, I'm not the princess or the king's bastard daughter. Here, I'm your wife and the mother of five wonderful children."

"And you prefer this life to that life?" he asked.

She nodded. "I love this life. I don't want to go back."

He kissed the top of Charlie's soft head. "You are the rightful heir to the throne, Maria. A time could come when you could find yourself queen of this country."

"We have Charlie. Let him be king. You and I will stay here as duke and duchess," she replied before kissing first her son's head and then her husband's lips.

"Not in front of the children, Maria. You might scandalize them," he teased.

"Someday, I will be able to kiss you again without that fear."

"And then we will have more children."

Mary laughed. "You already have five children, Charles."

"And you are only seventeen. You have shown yourself to be young and fertile and children are the natural consequence of intercourse."

She kissed his cheek. "I think that Your Grace is quite fortunate that I love children and being a mother to your children."

"Going to Court may not be the worst thing that has ever happened to us," he replied with an impish wink.

"You mean that we'll be away from the children and there will not be anyone in our bed except the two of us?"

"Exactly," Charles said. "I love our children but I would dearly love to wake up without finding five children in my bed despite having only gone to bed with two."

"When did Henry learn to climb into our bed?"

"I found Ellie teaching him one day a few weeks ago."

Mary laughed. "She is decidedly your daughter."

**

* * *

September 1533**

* * *

Sir Anthony arrived at Suffolk House on the first day of September. "I am sick of Court and London, Charles," he sighed as the two men sat in the duke's private study. "It's hot and boring and stuffy. The queen is in her confinement and the king is insufferable, always prattling on and on about the son she will give him."

"Well, here we won't talk about that at all," Charles replied. "Here, you can play with the children or go for long walks with Cate in the garden without worrying about king and country."

"Walking with Cate does sound enchanting."

"I believe that she is in the garden with my charming wife and children. And while you have my permission to stroll with her in the garden, you will not be alone."

"You do not trust me alone with your ward?" Tony asked with a quirked eyebrow.

Charles laughed. "I trust you in my gardens, but I fear that my daughters will not trust you to take their precious Cate out of their sight."

"So when you marry a girl, you really do have to marry her family as well?"

"You notice that my mother-in-law lives with us."

"At the king's pleasure," Tony added.

"But we welcome her because she is family."

"How is the Princess Dowager doing now? How does she feel about the child the Queen is carrying?"

Charles shrugged. "We don't really talk about all of that. We deal with matters of the kingdom when we must, but for the most part we prefer to live our lives as a quiet family in the country."

"You will not always be able to block out the real world."

"We don't block out the real world, Tony. We merely live our lives away from the Court and do not make the King the center of our lives."

Tony shook his head. "Thomas Boleyn keeps telling Henry that you're plotting against him out here. According to Boleyn, you want to get Mary back into the line of succession, overthrow Henry, and put yourself on the throne."

Charles laughed. "You know that's not true."

"But Henry doesn't. He's paranoid and he will believe anything that Boleyn says."

"Why would I want to overthrow Henry? He has been my best friend since we were children. He has given me so much. There is no logical reason for me to turn on him."

"Charles, there is one reason. Henry can only give you power up to a certain point. If you overthrow him and set Mary on the throne, then you will have unlimited power."

"And I couldn't care less. Tony, you've been here in Suffolk; you've seen our life here."

Tony laughed. "Seen your life? I'm jealous of your life. It's quiet and peaceful."

"Exactly, I have everything I've ever wanted. I don't want to be king. And what's more, Mary does not want to be queen. She would be perfectly content to remain here in Suffolk for the rest of her days."

"But somewhere inside your heart, you believe that Henry's marriage to Katherine is valid and this relationship with Anne is wrong. You believe that Mary is the rightful heir to the throne. And you want to see Katherine and Mary restored to the king's good graces."

Charles nodded. "And I would see England restored to Rome. It is not good for the king to lead the Church."

"In that, you are Henry's enemy and the Boleyns' enemy too."

"And Mary has given me a son."

"That is the biggest threat to the Boleyns. Anne says that she carries a son, and the astrologers back her up."

"But the baby could yet be a girl."

Tony nodded. "Thomas Boleyn feels threatened by your son."

Charles laughed. "I can understand feeling threatened by me but not by my son. The last time I saw Charlie, he was spitting up on Mary. He's not very intimidating yet unless a dirty shirt is your greatest concern."

Tony smiled but pressed forward. He was concerned for the Brandon family and he wanted to be certain that Charles understood the reality of his situation. "But he is male issue from Katherine's line. He is everything for which Henry has hoped. If Anne cannot give him a son, Henry may turn his eyes to your son."

In reality, Charles was well aware of his situation and of the danger in which he lived. "Technically, all of my children are in line for the throne. Yes, Charles-Henry and Margaret have more immediate claims to the throne through Mary, but Eleanor, Frances, and Henry are also the children of a Tudor princess."

"I've said it before, Charles. Some days, I really think that you just want to fuck with the line of succession."

Charles shook his head. "It is about so much more than sex, Tony. I loved Margaret with all of my heart and I would have loved her even if I had been a farmer and she had been the daughter of a blacksmith. When she died, part of me died with her.

"I remember how drunk you were after she died." After Margaret's death, Charles had gotten drunk for three days and locked himself away from his children. He refused to see his newborn son until Anthony had arrived at Suffolk House with a letter from Queen Katherine offering her condolences and her willingness to help Charles in any way possible. Tony had also brought a resounding slap to Charles's left cheek with him; that had not been from the queen although in retrospect, Charles felt reasonably certain that Katherine would have sanctioned the slap had she known how drunk he was.

"I couldn't imagine my life without her in it. I loved her wholly and entirely. For much of the year that followed, I believed that I would never marry again. I would have been content to have never married again because I didn't believe that I could ever possibly love anyone as much as I had loved Margaret."

"But you did marry Mary."

"I couldn't imagine the idea of someone like her being married to George Boleyn. The whole idea was wrong to me. She was Margaret's beloved niece, and as such, I felt that I had to protect her and the only way I could do that was to marry her."

"And then you fell in love with her."

"I came to realize that I could love again. Shortly before I married Mary, I had begun to think that, for my children's sake, I ought to marry again; they needed a mother. And then, Mary came into our lives. I can't explain it, Tony; it just happened to me."

Tony laughed. "Well, I don't think that Henry sees it that way."

Charles rolled his eyes. "I don't care how Henry sees it. I only know what's true. I've told you this before; he wrote Mary off far too quickly and some day, he will pay for that. Now no more of this serious talk; let's go find Cate so you can flirt with her."

"I think that I do more than flirt with her. I like to think that I'm courting to her."

"You'd do well to ask me for her hand in marriage soon. I will say yes."

"Will you give me a good dowry for her?"

"Her father left her a very pretty one when he died. But I'll also tell you that I married Mary without any dowry."

"You could yet receive a kingdom as a dowry."

* * *

Seven days later, a messenger arrived at Suffolk Manor with the news that Queen Anne had given birth to a baby girl who had been named Elizabeth after both of her grandmothers the day before. The king had ordered both Mary and Charles to come to London immediately for the baby's christening. This required them to find a wet nurse for the twins, but Mrs. Hastings took care of that easily. Then, Mary informed Cate that she was in charge of the children until the duke and duchess returned. And then, they left for London.

* * *

A/N: Please review! Reviews fuel the writing.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I don't own what you recognize. I am incredibly appreciative of all my reviewers. You motivate me.

**

* * *

September 1533**

* * *

Returning to London was difficult for Mary. Neither she nor Charles had any idea how her father might greet her upon her arrival. Would she be his "perfect pearl in all the world" or just another duchess? And then there were the Boleyns. Their behavior towards her was entirely unpredictable. And Charles would not always be able to be at her side. "I don't like this," he told her as they sat in the carriage en route to London. "I wish we didn't have to do this."

She leaned her head against his shoulder. "Is it going to Court that you don't like or leaving the children behind?"

"It's the politics of all of it," he replied bitterly. "Your father is creating a mess that won't be easy to fix."

"Do you think that he'll be kind to me? I don't think I can expect kindness from the Boleyns but I would like to think that my own father will be kind to me."

Charles kissed the top of his wife's head and then pressed his cheek against hers. "I pray for the best for all of us."

* * *

Immediately upon their arrival at Greenwich Palace, Mary and Charles were informed that the king wished to speak with them privately. "This could be wonderful or it could be horrible," Charles whispered in his wife's ear as they made their way to the king's private chambers.

She simply squeezed his hand and pressed her lips together. If she was honest with herself, she felt like she was going to vomit. Bile was in her throat and fear was in her heart. She was about to see the father she hadn't seen since the age of nine. Part of her was afraid. She didn't want to keep walking towards the man who had caused her so much hurt and misery in the past few years. She wanted to run back to her room and climb into Charles's arms, the only safe place in her world. She didn't feel like a princess; she felt like a scared child. But Charles kept his arm about her waist as they walked forward. "Sea fuerte, mi querida," he whispered in her ear before they walked into the king's chambers.

* * *

Things were not going well for King Henry. Queen Anne had given him a daughter instead of the son she'd promised him. Meanwhile, his bastard daughter had a son. He hadn't met Mary's son, but he'd heard from Tony that little Charles-Henry Brandon was a strong, healthy baby. And he was a boy. Despite everything that the Duke of Suffolk said about the little boy being just the second son of a country duke, the boy was so much more than that. He was the one thing that Henry had always wanted. But he could not overturn everything that he had done. The king could not be wrong.

"They're here," his pageboy said, breaking into his thoughts. "The Duke and Duchess of Suffolk are here."

"Thank you. Show them in."

A moment later, they were standing before him. Charles looked the same as he had a few months earlier at Queen Anne's coronation, but the young woman standing beside him couldn't be Mary. This woman was beautiful and elegant with curves that his daughter hadn't had eight years earlier when he'd last seen her. As he wondered when she had grown into this lady, a gasp slipped from his mouth.

"Your Majesty," Mary said softly as she curtsied.

"My little Mary," he replied, embracing her. "But you are not my little Mary anymore, are you? When did you become such a beautiful young lady?"

Mary blushed and then her husband, with his hand still firmly pressed against her trembling back, said, "I was delightfully surprised when I met her last August, but she has become quite the young lady in the eight or so years since you last had her at court. You would be amazed at what you have missed."

Henry looked at Charles and shook his head. "I'll let that remark slide because we're in private, but I'll remind you to show respect to your king in public."

"He will," Mary said, putting a hand on Charles's shoulder. "My husband is merely very protective of me and does not want to see me hurt."

"You are my darling Mary. I would never hurt you," Henry replied firmly.

Mary felt her husband twitch next to her; it took everything in her to keep from laughing. Her father might never hurt her intentionally, but he had done her a great deal of harm unintentionally. Charles, on the other hand, she didn't worry about. There was a possibility that he could hurt her. She loved him; anytime you opened your heart to someone, it meant you could get hurt. She didn't know how he could hurt her, but she knew that he could.

Her father motioned to three chairs by the fireplace. "Please, have a seat."

Mary and Charles sat down. They both looked at the king as he sat down. "How is your family? I had hoped to be able to visit you in Suffolk during the summer, but alas, things did not go the way that I intended."

"The family is well," Charles replied. "And if Your Majesty would like to come visit us in the near future, you would be more than welcome."

"I intend to come in the near future," Henry said. "I am very eager to meet my new grandson."

"I think that your new granddaughter would also like to meet you," Charles stated blandly.

"Oh yes, it would be nice to meet her as well. What is her name again?"

"Margaret, after your deceased sister," Mary said.

Henry nodded. "Oh yes, I had forgotten. But the boy, you named him Henry?"

"Charles-Henry," Charles said flatly. "Henry is my older son's name."

"You know, I don't think that I've ever met your older son, Charles."

"I don't think that you have. In fact, I am not certain that you've ever met any of my daughters either."

"Then I shall have to come to Suffolk to meet your lovely children. But please make certain that I do not have to encounter the Lady Katherine."

"If you give us notice of your coming, we shall be sure to keep her out of your way," Mary replied. "I suspect that she would rather not see you herself."

As the king glowered, Charles tried to avoid smiling. Here was Henry, thinking only of himself; the idea that Katherine might not want to see him had obviously never occurred to the king. "You must consider that it is natural that she would not want to see you. After all that has passed between you two, seeing you could be extraordinarily uncomfortable for her."

Henry nodded. "I see. I had not thought of that." He paused, and then started again. "But how are both of you? Are you faring well, Mary?"

"I am well," she replied. "I have found that I very much enjoy the life of a country duchess. It is quiet and peaceful."

"With the exception of the occasional sibling squabble," Charles joked lightly.

Mary laughed and rested her head against her husband's chest. "Occasionally I do have to deal with two little girls arguing over who owns which toy but in general, the children are wonderful."

"You're a mother," Henry breathed. The image of his daughter being physically affectionate with Charles shocked him; they were really and truly married. And what's more, they were genuinely happy together in a way that made Charles jealous.

His daughter nodded. "Marrying Charles came with three children immediately and then we have had two more."

"But you're a mother. You, my daughter, are a mother. You have children of your own."

She smiled. "I am well aware."

"You grew up, Mary. When did this happen? The last time I saw you, you were a young child, far too young to be a mother."

"With all due respect, Your Majesty, that was eight years ago. It is only natural that I would become a young woman in eight years time."

"But you're an adult. You're married and you have children."

Charles smiled faintly. "Eight years have passed, Henry. She was nine the last time you saw her; now, she is seventeen and a wife and mother. You had once intended for her to marry the Emperor at the age of twelve. If that had happened, she would have had children with him when she was even younger than she is now."

"Charles, you don't understand. I missed eight years of my daughter's life. Do you have any idea how that feels?"

"I don't." Missing a few months of his children's lives broke Charles's heart; missing entire years was an idea he could not even begin to fathom.

Henry looked at Mary and shook his head. "I should have come to visit you in Suffolk this summer. I should have."

"Well, you can't change the past," she replied placidly. "We would have liked to have had you, but even a king can't change the past."

* * *

Later that day, Mary and Charles were summoned to the queen's chambers to meet the new princess. While Anne was determined to demonstrate herself as queen, she was surprised at Mary's willingness to accept being only the Duchess of Suffolk. "The king has decided to have the Duchess of Suffolk hold the princess during her christening," Anne remarked blandly.

"I promise not to drop her," Mary replied. "I do have children of my own after all."

Anne huffed. "When he thought we were having a boy, he intended to have the French ambassador hold the child. Now that we have Elizabeth, he only wants a duchess to hold her."

"Well, I could refuse to hold her and demand that he reinstate the French ambassador but His Majesty has never been much for listening to me."

Anne winced. "I suppose you'll do."

"May we please see Her Highness?" Mary asked.

"Of course," Anne replied. "Nan, would you please bring me the princess? The duchess wants to hold her."

Two minutes later, Mary was holding her new half-sister. "She's beautiful. How is she?"

Seeing in Mary's eyes a real sympathy, the sympathy of a mother of young children, Anne spoke with an honesty that she had not intended to use with Henry's bastard daughter. "She fusses more than I expected a royal baby would. She seems to have a bit of a temper."

"And you aren't getting as much sleep as you're used to?" Mary asked gently. "I'm not trying to be rude. I'm just asking."

"She fusses even more at night. I didn't expect motherhood to be this difficult; I thought it would all be more natural. I don't know how you handled twins."

"Well, I had Charles, my mother, Catherine Willoughby, and our servants to help me."

"I have servants, but I want to feed her myself and that is not as easy as I expected. And she keeps waking up and crying and fussing all night."

"That sounds like Eleanor," Charles remarked casually.

"Eleanor?" Anne asked.

"My oldest daughter," he replied. "As the father of five children, I can say with confidence that she has to be one of the fussiest babies ever born."

"How did you get any sleep?"

"Her mother and I found creative ways to get her to fall asleep."

Anne hadn't really slept since before Elizabeth was born and was a little desperate to sleep for more than an hour at a time. "What did you do?"

Charles looked at Mary who smiled as she held the baby princess. "Swaddling really helps," Mary said. "Baby Charles spent most of June and July swaddled and he slept beautifully."

"Is that what you did with Eleanor?"

"We did many things with her," Charles replied. "The most important seemed to be that her mother and I slept with her in our bed."

"I can't do that," Anne protested. "I love my daughter but I will not sleep with her in my bed."

Elizabeth whimpered and Mary began to bounce her gently. "There are other things that could work," she told Anne. "Charles has merely found that each of his children has slept better when they were in bed with their parents."

Anne sniffed. "Perhaps her nursemaid could do the same thing. But it doesn't seem like a very healthy idea to me. I'm certain that His Majesty would not approve."

Mary shrugged. "You don't have to take my advice. It was merely a suggestion."

* * *

"Do you think she'll listen to you?" Charles asked Mary late that evening when they were finally alone and preparing for bed.

She shook her head. "I doubt it. She has no real reason to think that we know what we're talking about."

"Careful," he said, steadying her head before he continued to braid her long hair. "Our five children don't mean anything?"

"Charles, I don't think she understands that you have actually been involved in the lives of all of your children from the day they were born."

"Except Henry, I didn't talk to him until he was four days old."

"That was a slightly different situation. His mother died in childbirth. You were understandably distraught."

He smiled and leaned over to kiss her nose. "Maria, you amaze me. So often, I forget that you are only seventeen. You are far more mature than I was at seventeen."

"Charles, when you were seventeen, you had very few real responsibilities. I, however, am seventeen and the mother of five children under the age of five. I have to be mature."

He smiled and kissed her cheek. "It still surprises me when I see you dealing with things I didn't touch until I was much older."

She leaned back against his chest. "It's all a matter of circumstances, Charles. We each simply rose to meet the cards we were dealt when we had to. I don't think I could have raised three children by myself but you did beautifully with the little ones for a year."

"You would have managed if you had to," he replied, encircling her in his arms.

Mary snuggled against his warm body. "But I don't want to."

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Charles let go of his wife and stood up to put on his dressing gown. He walked out into the antechamber and opened the door to find Lady Nan Saville. "Your Grace, I need to speak with the Duchess urgently," she said.

"Her Grace is within. Give her a moment and she will be with you."

Sure enough, Mary was in the antechamber wearing a navy blue dressing gown a moment later. "What can I do for you, Lady Nan?"

"Her Majesty has sent me to ask you if you could come and help her with the princess. The princess is fussing and will not sleep. She wonders if you could help us at all. Nothing anyone is doing calms the little one."

Mary touched her braid self-consciously and looked at her husband who nodded reassuringly. "Of course I'll come."

* * *

As Mary and Lady Nan neared in the queens' chambers, the baby's screams could be heard. "We don't know what she wants, Your Grace," Lady Nan said as they walked in.

Lady Madge Shelton was holding the screaming child. Her little red face was scrunched up as she wailed. "The queen is getting frustrated," she said. "But the princess won't stop crying."

Mary looked at the baby. "May I hold her?"

"If you can make her stop crying," Lady Madge said, holding the baby out.

"Thank you," Mary replied, taking the baby in her arms. She loosened the strings of her shift and held the baby to her breast. Despite her efforts to empty them during the day, her swollen breasts held milk for the twins who were back in Suffolk with a wet nurse and milk fell easily into Elizabeth's little mouth. As the queen and her ladies watched, little Elizabeth fed eagerly on her half-sister's milk and Mary patiently let her.

"How can you do this so easily?" Anne asked.

"Three months of practice with twins," Mary replied as she ran a finger along Elizabeth's soft cheek.

"But it hurts."

"It hurts when you start, but you have to keep with it. It becomes easier with practice. The only reason that I can do this for you is that I haven't fed the twins since last night and my breasts are painfully full of milk."

Anne watched in amazement as her daughter became calm and seemed to drift to a state of ecstasy as she nursed greedily. "I know that I sound like a horrible mother asking this, but could you keep her tonight? I can't bear to hear her screaming anymore but she doesn't cry with you. She likes you."

Mary smiled. "I can only take her for tonight. Tomorrow night, she needs to get used to her mother."

"When are you returning to Suffolk?" Madge asked.

"Within the week," Mary replied. "His Grace and I need to return to our children and the estate."

"I was thinking that perhaps you could join the princess's household. I know that His Majesty intends to send her to Hatfield with her own household very soon."

"It would be quite logical," Lady Nan mused softly, repeating an idea that she had heard from the Earl of Wiltshire. "After all, you are His Majesty's bastard daughter and she is his legitimate daughter. It would demonstrate her legitimacy over yours."

"Regardless of my parentage, I am married and have five children at home who need me far more than the little princess does. And my husband would object most heavily to being separated from me."

"His Majesty would never deny the Duke of Suffolk anything that he wanted," Queen Anne admitted.

Mary yawned. "I will finish feeding the princess and then I will take her back to my chambers for the night. But I will not go to Hatfield to be a part of her household."

* * *

"What is this?" Charles asked when his wife crept into their bedroom carrying Princess Elizabeth.

"I felt badly for her," Mary replied as she climbed into bed with the baby in her arms. "She was screaming like a banshee when all she really wanted was to be fed and held. Like Meg, she likes to be held against bare skin."

"You know that she won't get that luxury at court."

"The king is sending her to Hatfield soon with her own household."

"And she still won't get this kind of treatment there."

"Are you scolding me?" Mary asked without looking up from the baby.

Charles shook his head. "No, I'm just telling you that you're spoiling your little sister."

"I know I am, but I know that Anne is having a much harder start at motherhood than I did. She has a household full of unmarried ladies who are Howards or friends of the Howard family and therefore obligated to always do whatever she wants. No one will tell her what to do or give her advice. I was so lucky to have Mrs. Hastings and you and my mother to help me those first few weeks."

Charles ran a finger over Elizabeth's soft pink cheek and smiled. "She is darling. But I think she may have inherited your father's temper along with his red hair."

Mary laughed. "I used to think that I had inherited it."

"No, you just have your mother's stubborn Spanish pride."

"Which is not necessarily a bad thing," his wife replied as she snuggled against his chest.

"No, I'm not complaining," he replied, pulling her closer to himself and resting his cheek in her brown hair. "I'd much rather live with that than with your father's temper. I've already been married to one woman with that temper; it was enough for one lifetime."

"Charles, you do want more children, don't you?" his wife asked softly.

"You know I do. Is this your way of telling me that you are with child?" he teased lightly.

"No, I'm not with child, but I was wondering if you wanted more children."

"Mary, you know that I want a large family."

"We already have five children."

He laughed. "It's a good start, but I think that we'll have more."

* * *

The christening was the next morning and Mary dutifully held the baby princess without jostling her or upsetting her at all. Then she carried Elizabeth back to her mother and her duties were done. While others stayed to coo over the princess, Charles and Mary made their escape at the earliest appropriate moment.

Back in their own room, Charles looked at his wife. "No one else's children are sleeping in our bed tonight. It will just be you and me, darling. And we're going home very soon."

"I know," Mary replied. "I miss home."

"We've only been gone for a day and a half."

"And I miss the babies. I miss our children, my mother, and Cate. I don't like being at Court, Charles."

"Now you know how I felt when I had to spend three months in France without you."

"Those three months were not exactly pleasant for me either," Mary told her husband.

"Then we will have to endeavor to never repeat that experience again," he told her, pressing his forehead against hers.

"I think that the children would appreciate that."

Charles smiled and kissed his wife's forehead. "And I would also appreciate it, my love."

"Then let us go home as soon as my father the king permits us."

"I like that idea," he replied, kissing his wife again.

"And then you won't mind having children in our bed."

"They'll be our children and I don't mind them one bit. In fact, I like having them in our bed."

* * *

Three days later, Charles woke up in his own bed in Suffolk with his wife and all five of his children. He kissed Frances's forehead and smiled. Some men, such as King Henry, would probably not appreciate waking up with five children in their beds. Thomas Boleyn would probably have been uncomfortable to find his three-year-old daughter pressed up against his chest at dawn. Thomas Cromwell probably would not have appreciated having his two-year-old son slobber on his chest.

Charles Brandon was a different sort of man. Slobbering toddlers and little girls who took over half the bed were exactly the sort of thing that made him happy. Mary stirring softly, Charlie's foot pressed against his mother's chin, and Meg clutching one of her mother's curls; Charles smiled. This was his family. And this was better than court.

* * *

A/N: Please review!


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I love all of my reviewers; you're all wonderful. You're why I keep writing. And I don't own what I recognize.

**

* * *

November 1533**

* * *

September, October, and most of November flew by the Brandon family. Children grew and learned more and more exciting things. Mary and Charles grew closer together. In early November, Tony Knivert asked Cate Willoughby to marry him. Katherine of Aragon found healing from her broken marriage and heart in being a mother and grandmother.

One blustery morning in late November found the Brandon house in a bit of chaos. Tony was visiting. And it was raining, which meant that the children could not go outside to play. This meant that Charles had to find ways to entertain three lively children inside the house. And being Charles, he coerced Tony into helping him. "I don't know anything about children."

"You're getting married, old man," Charles replied. "Children are the fruit of marriage. I think it's time you learned how to play with children."

Tony sighed. "I'm not getting married until summer."

"Spring," Charles told him firmly. "You are getting married right after Easter."

"That's fast."

"I'm protective. I know you and I don't really trust you that much. So you're going to marry my ward the first Tuesday after Easter. The only reason that it's not sooner is that you have to be at court for most of the winter."

"Unlike you," Tony sighed.

Charles smiled. "I do not mind that one bit. I like Suffolk in the winter."

"You like staying away from the king and spending time with your family."

Little Henry ran into the room just then and climbed into his father's lap. As he settled the little boy in his lap, Charles told his friend, "How could I not?"

Tony laughed. "Your children and your wife are beyond enchanting, Charles. You have a very felicitous home here."

"I have every reason to believe that your home will be just as felicitous as ours is. Now, I need to teach this young one how to wrestle properly," the duke remarked as his young son attempted to twist his arm.

Tony laughed. "He is decidedly your son."

"Mary is always willing to remind me of that. And I think that little Charlie has also inherited some of my Brandon spirit."

"Then, for your wife's sake, I hope that Meg is more docile."

Charles was now on the floor, tickling his giggling son. "When was anyone in my family docile?"

**

* * *

December 1533**

* * *

November turned into December and merriment filled the Brandon house. Although Christmas in Suffolk would not be as formal or as fancy as Christmas at Court, Charles suspected that it would be more fun. Meg and Charlie were beginning to crawl and Henry had become a little chatterbox. Frances had taken to skipping, hopping, and dancing about the house in a fashion that amused her parents, her grandmother, and Cate Willoughby to no end. And Eleanor was proving to be a witty, intelligent young girl who constantly reminded the adults in her life of her deceased mother.

On Christmas Eve, she danced into her father's study after breakfast. "Papa, Mama is feeling poorly. Can you make her better quickly so that everything is happy for Christmas?"

"Why is Mama feeling poorly?" Charles asked the little girl.

She shrugged. "I don't know. But Cate says that Mama is just very tired. I think it's probably Charlie's fault."

"What has he been doing?"

"He's a silly little boy," Eleanor replied absently as she spun around in circles. Time alone with her father was a rare treat, so she was basking in his undivided attention.

"Who told you that Charlie was a silly little boy?" Charles asked

"You said that once when he was rolling around your bed."

"I said that because your little brother can crawl but he prefers to roll around instead. I think that is silly."

"I can walk!"

"I know you can. You're very good at it. Now, would you like to walk with me to see Mama so I can see how she is and if I can make her better for Christmas?"

"She's in bed resting. You can go see her. I'm going to play with Cate and Frances. Cate says that she can teach us how to dance."

"Have fun then. I'll come see you later," Charles told his daughter before giving her a kiss. Then she dashed out of the room and he went to his wife.

* * *

Mary was lying on her bed when Charles came in. He sat down next to her and ran a hand over her brow; it was sweaty but cool. "How are you, my love?"

"Tired," she replied softly. "And when I stand up, the world starts spinning around me."

"How long have you felt like this?"

"Just this morning," she replied, putting a hand over her eyes.

"Is there anything I can get you?"

She shook her head and then moaned. "I think I might be with child. I felt like this last fall when you were in France and I missed my course this month."

He lay down next to her and pressed his head against hers. "That is good news, right?"

She smiled. "It's very good news, Charles. But I don't want to feel like this now. I want to keep up with the children, not sleep all day."

He kissed her cheek. "But if you need to rest, then rest, sweetheart. Your mother, Cate, and I can chase the children around for a while. You'll be up and on your feet again before you know it."

She sighed. "Charles, is my father really going to change the succession to rest fully in Elizabeth?"

"That's what Cromwell told me," he replied. "Your father intends to show the country that Anne truly is queen and your mother is not."

"I thought he wanted to come visit us and see the children."

"He did tell us that in September," Charles replied. "Clearly, he will not do that as it would conflict with his current political agenda."

She sighed. "I want him to see his grandchildren."

"So do I. But he doesn't want to see your mother or have anyone suggest that he might be wrong about anything."

"He is wrong about some things," Mary replied firmly.

"I know that and you know that. But your father would not want to hear that."

"Charles, why can't we be normal people?" she asked in a tired voice.

"If we were normal people, we never would have married one another."

"If we were normal people, we would have had a much easier life. And widowed men have been known to marry much younger women."

Charles laughed. "Mary, I love you. You are enchanting. And I am glad that you are my wife. I am glad that we are who we are so that we are able to be married and have this family together."

Mary smiled and kissed his chin. "I can't imagine life without you."

**

* * *

February 1534**

* * *

Mary was indeed with child and the baby would be arriving sometime in July. As Charles commented to Mary on her eighteenth birthday, "The next several months will be chaotic. Cate is leaving and then there is another baby coming. And the children are growing. I feel like things will be changing every day."

Mary laughed. "Does Cate have to get married? You know that Eleanor and Frances will have broken hearts when she leaves."

"And you know that Tony would throw a fit if I tried to keep them from getting married."

"I know. But come April, we will have two crying little girls when Cate leaves with Tony."

"And you will comfort them brilliantly, my dear," Charles replied.

His wife rolled her eyes. "You had better help me with them or God help me, Charles Brandon, I will end you."

"You'll end me?" he teased. He was having a hard time taking his petite wife seriously as she threatened his life.

"Come April, I'll be out to here," she said holding her arms out in front of herself. "And I won't have as much of a lap for comforting or coddling. So you'll have to undertake some of that responsibility."

Charles smiled and kissed his wife's cheek. "I'll comfort and coddle as much as I need to. I promise. But I also expect to be allowed to comfort and coddle my wife as well as I'm sure our children's sadness at losing their dear friend will weigh heavily on their mother."

Mary looked up at her husband, cozy in her position in his lap. "You are welcome to comfort and coddle your wife as much as you like. And when I start complaining about how large I am, I expect to be comforted and coddled."

Charles laughed and settled his hand on her softly-swelling belly. "I will gladly submit to your demands."

* * *

While Charles and Mary were ensconced in his study, her mother was playing with Eleanor, Frances, and Henry in the Great Hall. Suddenly, Katherine heard a great deal of noise coming from the entrance. She looked up from her seat on the floor with little Henry Brandon in her lap and saw the king standing over her.

"Where is the duke?" he demanded firmly.

"The duke, Your Majesty?" she repeated as shock at seeing him filled her being.

"If you could please tell me where I could find your master, I greatly desire to speak with him."

He didn't recognize her. Away from Court, Katherine had taken to dressing in much simpler clothes and looked far more like a country dowager rather than a member of any royal family. She smiled. "His Grace is in his study with his wife at present. If Your Majesty could wait one moment, I could fetch him for you."

"I know where his study is. I'll go to him myself," Henry replied, setting off towards Charles's study.

"But Mama is in there!" Eleanor called after her uncle. "Papa isn't alone."

Katherine smiled as she shushed Eleanor, telling the little girl "that man is the king and he may do whatever he pleases."

* * *

Henry ignored the little girl's remark and made his way to the study. He opened the door and found Charles sitting at his desk with Mary in his lap. The king started. His daughter was sitting in Charles Brandon's lap and Charles was touching her. And to make matters worse, she seemed to be enjoying it. "What are you doing?" he sputtered.

Charles Brandon looked up at his father-in-law with a startling calmness. "Your Majesty, this is a surprise."

Mary climbed off her husband's lap and curtsied. "You are most welcome to our home."

Henry looked at his daughter. "You are with child."

She nodded. "I am four months gone."

"You two do not waste any time," he remarked.

Charles walked to stand next to his wife. "We thought we had heard that your wife was also with child."

"Anne miscarried."

"You and the queen have our deepest sympathies," Mary replied gently. She leaned against her husband and he slid a warm, protective hand over her belly.

Henry shook his head. "That isn't important. I'm here now and I want to meet my grandson."

"If you'll go into the drawing room with Charles, I'll go get the babies."

"That will do. Just make sure that I don't see your mother."

"Naturally, Your Majesty," Mary replied with a curtsy.

* * *

Charles took his father-in-law into the drawing room where they found Cate Willoughby playing with Eleanor, Frances, and Henry Brandon. "She's lovely," the king whispered in the Duke of Suffolk's ear as they entered the room.

"And she's betrothed to Knivert, so keep your hands to yourself," Charles hissed back. Then he lifted his eyes to his children and flashed Cate what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

"Papa, Henry can spell!" Ellie announced when she saw her father.

"He can? What can he spell?"

"Cate's name," she replied, running to her father who picked her up. Then she turned her gaze on the king. "Who are you?"

Henry's breath caught in his throat as he saw his darling young sister's face mirrored in that of her child. Margaret's face danced before his face and intermingled with her daughter's bright smile.

"Eleanor, this is King Henry, the king of England," Charles told his daughter. "And Henry, this is my daughter, Lady Eleanor Brandon."

Henry smiled weakly. Margaret had died far from London, supposedly happily settled with her family in Suffolk, and this child was a mirror image of her mother as a child. "You are lovely, Lady Eleanor."

She smiled as her father set her down and softly whispered, "Thank you."

"These are two of my other children," Charles continued. "Lord Henry Brandon and Lady Frances Brandon, Henry is two and Frances just turned four."

"How old is Eleanor?"

"Almost six," Charles replied with a proud gleam in his eye, the same gleam that came into his eye whenever he was talking about his children.

Before he could say anything else, Mary came into the room with a baby in her arms and Bessie trailed slightly behind with the second twin. Henry didn't know the twins yet but Charles knew them well. And unlike the king, he knew that Mary was carrying Meg in her arms.

"This must be little Charles-Henry," Henry said reaching his arms towards Mary and the baby in her arms.

Charles smiled as he took his younger son into his arms. "Actually that is Margaret. And this handsome young man is Charles-Henry."

A look of awe overwhelmed Henry's face as he looked at the almost nine-month-old boy in his friend's arms. The child was clearly strong and healthy. And whether or not Henry wanted to admit it, Charles-Henry bore a strong resemblance to Mary and her mother. "May I hold him?" he asked.

Charles surrendered the little boy with blue eyes and dark brown hair into the waiting arms of his grandfather.

"A male heir," Henry whispered softly as he took the little boy into his arms.

"You have Elizabeth and you have vested the succession in her," Charles whispered back. "A king cannot change his mind."

Henry didn't reply but merely looked at the child in his arms with wonder. It was as if this child was the first baby he had ever seen. Charles, in the meantime, was with his wife and youngest daughter.

"Papa, I want to go see Grandma. She went to her room to rest but I want to see her," Eleanor announced suddenly.

"Can it wait or do you want to go upstairs now?"

"Now," Eleanor replied firmly and Charles was reminded yet again who Eleanor's mother was.

"I'll take her upstairs," Cate said. "I wouldn't mind the chance to go sit in Lady Katherine's room and sew with her for a bit if it would make Ellie happy."

Henry watched this exchange with an interested eye. Whatever people might say, he still cared a bit about Katherine's fate.

"You may take her," Mary said. "I'm sure that my mother would appreciate your company."

"Is the Dowager Princess unwell?" the king asked as Cate and Eleanor left the room.

"She is not unwell," Charles began slowly. "However, she would prefer not to have to see Your Majesty or speak with you unless absolutely necessary. Also, in September you expressed your wish to not see the Dowager Princess of Wales while in our home."

Henry nodded. "This is true. However I would not want her to be unwell. And if she is, I would like to help her in any way that I could."

"You need not trouble yourself on that account," Charles replied firmly. "We have physicians here in Suffolk who can care for her and I am more than willing to take on the expenses of the lady's care."

Henry shot a look at Charles that sent a shiver down Mary's spine and caused her to say, "If you two would like to speak privately, I would be willing to take the children upstairs to my mother's rooms."

Charles put a firm hand on his wife's shoulder. "You may stay. However, Bessie, if you could please take Frances and Henry from the room, I would appreciate it. Take them to Lady Katherine's chambers please."

Bessie did as requested quickly and quietly. The children followed her quickly sensing that something was amiss between the adults.

When his children were gone, Charles continued, "Henry, you may be the king, but this is my household and you will be respectful of all who reside here."

"I mean no disrespect towards your family. I do however wonder why it is that you will not allow me to demonstrate more kindness towards your family."

"You have declared my wife to be your bastard and stated that her mother was not your legitimate wife but rather a mistress of sorts. You have insulted the honor and dignity of two women and I will not allow them to accept your charity towards them when I can provide for them from my own resources."

"I do not wish to appear unfeeling towards Mary even if she is illegitimate. And since Katherine is the mother of my child, I ought to show some feeling towards her."

"You must be careful how much feeling you show towards either one of them," Charles replied firmly. "You would not want to incur the queen's wrath."

"Anne's feelings are not of any great importance. She has failed to give me a son."

"Katherine also failed in that regard for many years."

"But now from her line comes this child," he replied, referring to the chubby little boy in his arms. "And there appears to be hope for more male children."

"This child could just as easily be a girl," Mary told her father. "And the queen could yet give you more sons. It would not be wise to write her off so early in your marriage. Give her time. You gave my mother many years."

Henry looked at her. "You are a strange one. Most women would be campaigning for their son's right to the throne while you counsel patience."

"I have suffered much in my life, Your Majesty. I would not like to see your current wife and her daughter treated badly."

"When have I ever treated you badly?"

Mary glared at her father and took a step back towards her husband. "Do you really need to ask yourself that question? I spent years of my life separated from my mother and that would have continued for far longer if my husband had not voluntarily married me for my own protection."

"I care for you and I always have."

Charles sighed. "While we don't doubt that that is true, your actions have not always been those of a loving father."

"I am the king of England, Charles. I must always put the country ahead of all else."

Mary felt Charles tensing as if to say that statement was untrue and she leaned her head against him. She needed him to know that he was the most important man in her life. He was the man she trusted. He slowly began to relax and he wrapped his arms around her waist, placing one hand firmly over her belly and the other on Meg's head. She smiled and settled herself against him.

Henry looked at his daughter and her husband. They loved each other. He loved Anne, right? But Katherine was upstairs. He had once been Sir Loyal Heart to her. When had he stopped loving Katherine? When had everything changed? Charles was clearly devoted to Mary; and what was more, he could see this lasting a lifetime. What was the difference?

"How long are you planning on staying?" Mary asked suddenly.

"I hadn't thought about that. I simply rode off to Suffolk after an argument with the queen," the king replied.

"Was it related to the miscarriage?" his daughter probed gently.

"What business of yours is that?"

She shrugged. "Just answer me please."

"No, it was over something else. I was merely reminded of the great differences between your mother and the current queen."

Charles looked down as if to see something in Mary's hair and rolled his eyes unseen by other of his companions. He calmed himself before looking up and then he spoke. "I think that you might recall that your wife might be offended by comparisons to any previous lovers Your Majesty may have had."

"Lovers?" Henry repeated. "Katherine was more than a lover. She may not have been my lawful wife but we lived together happily for many years. We suffered many great losses and helped each other through good and bad times. We were once happy. Alas, it was not a marriage lawful in the sight of God and therefore he did not bless us with living sons, the greatest blessing that any marriage can receive and a sign that the marriage is meet and right in his eyes."

Charles raised his eyebrows and smiled. "And what will you think if this marriage similarly does not produce sons?"

Mary was shocked at her husband's brashness but the king did not appear to be. He simply shrugged. "I will do what is necessary to provide this nation with an heir to the throne."

"Anything," Mary said. "You'll do anything."

"Anything," her father replied firmly. "I will not leave this country dissolve into a war of succession upon my death. It will have a legitimate male heir."

"You are the king," Charles said simply. "And I suppose that you know best. Now, do you know how long you'll be in Suffolk?"

"At least the night," the king replied. "It is too late for me to depart tonight. Perhaps I could stay the night and then return in the morning?"

"I'll have Mrs. Hastings ready the guest room," Mary replied quickly. "It won't be as fancy as Whitehall, but it is our best bed."

"We believe," Charles added. "Neither of us has ever slept in that bed. But Knivert seems quite fond of it."

"If it is good enough for Knivert, then I'm sure that I shall have a pleasant enough night's sleep," the king replied.

"Excuse me then," Mary said slipping from her husband's arms. "I must speak with Mrs. Hastings."

"And your mother," Charles called after her. "Ask her if she minds remaining confined to her own apartments for the duration of the king's visit."

His wife nodded. "I'm sure she would prefer it to any awkward scene that might arise, but I will, of course, ask her opinions."

Charles smiled as his wife hurried out of the room and then took his son back from Henry's arms.

"She is spirited," Henry remarked. "But she is very mature, very wise."

"She inherited spirit from her parents," Charles replied, bouncing his son on his hip. "But the wisdom and maturity, and the grace behind them both, come from her life experience."

* * *

"Mother, you don't have to let him confine you to your rooms," Mary told her mother as she explained the situation.

"I won't, but I can't promise that I'll be civil either, querida," Katherine replied with a wink that Mary suspected had been learned from Charles.

"Mama, be careful around the king."

Katherine smiled at her daughter. "I will not put any of us in jeopardy. I will merely remind His Majesty that he is not the only one in this house of royal blood."

"Do you still love him?" Mary asked as she sat down next to her mother.

Katherine looked at her daughter. "He is your father, Maria. He gave me you and that is the greatest gift that anyone has given me. For that, I love him. With that said, he has also caused me unbelievable pain, but that can only happen when you allow yourself to love someone. And he was once very kind to me. He once treated me almost as well as the duke treats you."

"Mama, how do we know that Charles won't change and become like the king?"

"You trust God and have faith."

"But that is hard."

"I know, my dear. But I think that your husband cares for you in a way that I have never seen from your father. I think that Charles is a very different man from Henry."

"But my father was once Sir Loyal Heart to you. And all of that changed. How do I know that Charles won't change?"

Katherine took a deep breath. "You have no guarantees in life, Maria, but I will tell you this. When you were a little girl, Charles used to pay far more attention to you than your father did. The day that Bessie Blount gave birth to your father's bastard son, Charles spent the day with you. He wasn't with your father and Knivert and Compton drinking and celebrating the king's bastard. He was with the true princess. That night, I went to see you, to make sure that you were content in the middle of everything. And I found Charles in your room. You had been crying because you fell and scraped your knee so he stayed in your room until you fell asleep. Your own father ignored you all day but a nineteen-year-old boy stayed with you because you scraped your knee."

Mary smiled. "He and I have talked about my childhood often. He says that he liked to play with me when I was little because playing with me didn't require as much maturity or responsibility as spending time with my father did."

Katherine laughed. "I think that in many ways Charles has displayed far more maturity and responsibility in his life than your father has."

"I am not blind to the fact that Charles once had mistresses."

"But he gave that life up when Eleanor was born."

Mary cast a glance across the room at the little girl who was spinning around in circles while laughing. She smiled. "Mama, are you happy here with us?"

"Very happy," Katherine replied. "Your family gives my life purpose, Maria. And I find this family a refreshing breath of air after years around your father's court."

"We just want you to be happy and safe here," Charles said from the doorway of the room.

"Is everything settled?" Mary asked.

"Your father is in the guest room, so Charlie and I came to see the rest of the family. And then we found out that people were talking about me."

"How much did you hear?" Katherine asked.

"I came in when you were talking about the day Henry Fitzroy was born."

His wife gasped. "And you didn't say anything? You just stood there and listened?"

He smiled. "A few minutes earlier, your father asked me why I haven't taken a mistress since Eleanor was born. And I told him that there is more to a marriage than intercourse. I won't take a mistress while you're with child because I see no reason why I should be able to satisfy my physical urges when you can't."

"I love you," Mary replied as tears filled her eyes. "That's all I can say to you. I love you."

Katherine took little Meg from Mary's shaking arms and then took Charlie from his father.

Without the twins in their arms, Charles and Mary fell into each other's arms. As tears slid down Mary's face, her husband held her and kissed her salty cheeks. "I love you," he whispered. "And I would do anything for you. You and the children, this is my world and this is my priority."

* * *

A/N: Please review!


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Firstly, I don't own what you recognize. Secondly, I am very grateful for the reviews and your encouragement.

**

* * *

February 1534**

* * *

Mary rarely woke before her husband did, but that morning she did. Surprisingly, none of their children were in their bed. The twins had been moved to the room next to their parents' room after pregnancy caused Mary to stop nursing them herself and hand the duties to a wet nurse. She suspected that Cate had told the older children to stay in their rooms until it was time to get up for morning Mass because of the king's presence in the house. But the lack of children in room gave Mary a rare opportunity to be alone with her husband. And since he was still asleep, she had an extraordinarily rare opportunity to admire his body without him noticing.

The thing that had always amazed her about Charles Brandon even when she was a child was his hairy chest. Her father did not have a hairy chest; this she knew both from childhood memories and from her mother.

But Charles was a hairy man. He had a full head of thick wavy hair. He could grow a full beard in a week. And he was a handsome man. She never ceased to be amazed at the fact that she had married an incredibly handsome man. She had not married for love as her Aunt Margaret had. She had not married for political reasons as her mother had.

Instead, she had been thrown away by her father, cast off to the highest bidder. The highest bidder had been George Boleyn, a man who would not have treated her well. But then someone had raised the bid and rescued her. Seemingly without incentive or any chance of personal gain, Charles Brandon had married her. He was sixteen years her senior and had three children from a previous marriage. He was her father's best friend.

And now, a year and a half after their wedding, he was her best friend, her principal defender, her husband and the father of her children. The scruffy face that she saw every morning when she woke up, the warm blue eyes that both of their children had inherited, this was hers. This man was her husband in all meanings of the word. She could now laugh at Salisbury's well-intentioned warnings about the duke's sexual appetite. Their marriage had remained unconsummated for almost a month because of Charles's patient respect for his young wife. And now, he refused to follow tradition and take a mistress during his wife's pregnancy.

She ran her hand over his stubbly cheek and whispered, "Charles Brandon, you are the best of men."

His eyelids fluttered open and he smiled up at her. "Good morning, wife," he said. "How long have you been watching me?"

She smiled and replied, "Long enough to realize that you are the best of men."

"Your father has hurt you much in your life, but you should not view him as a standard by which to judge men."

"Be that as it may, you have been a faithful, devoted, and loving husband to me for every day of our marriage. You have cared for me in a way that I could have not imagined possible when you arrived at Ludlow a year and a half ago. You have given me the world."

"And you restored me to life," he replied, admitting something that he had never told her before. "When Margaret died, I lost more than just a wife and the mother of my children. I lost part of my soul. My children were my own reason for living. And then you came into my life. Your father's treatment of your mother had long upset me, but now I had a chance to defend the true queen and her line. I could marry you and keep you safe from the Boleyns. That was my initial goal. And then I watched you with my children. I grew to admire you and that grew to love."

"And then came more children."

Charles smiled and pulled his wife to himself. "And that makes me most happy. Our family is the most important thing in my universe. You, Eleanor, Frances, Henry, Charlie, Meg, and the little one growing inside of you-this is my universe. This is what I live for. And I am content. I am completely and utterly content."

Mary leaned against his chest. "Can we just stay like this forever?"

"You think we should stay alone in the room together?" Charles teased. "What will your father think?"

She laughed. "I think the children might get restless if we stayed in here forever."

"Then we should get up and go to Mass."

* * *

King Henry came downstairs to find no one but servants about. "Is the family still asleep?" he asked Mrs. Hastings quite incredulously.

The housekeeper, a plump middle-aged woman, smiled broadly. "No, Your Majesty, they are all at the chapel for morning Mass as is their custom. His Grace said to feed you breakfast when you came down. He did not want you disturbed."

"They take the children to Mass every morning?"

She bobbed her head. "Yes, Your Majesty, all five children go with the duke and duchess."

"Five children with two adults, it seems so much work."

"No, Your Majesty, there are four adults. The Dowager Princess of Wales and Miss Willoughby go to Mass with them. Would Your Majesty like something to eat?"

Henry nodded. "When will they return?"

"Very soon," the housekeeper replied.

"I will wait for the duke and duchess then," he replied.

* * *

A few minutes later, Henry was startled by the sight of Charles, Mary, Cate, and Katherine coming into the house surrounded by a whirl of jabbering hungry children. Charles was carrying one baby while his mother-in-law had the other. Mary was trying to find out what her two-year-old son wanted. And Cate was trying to get Eleanor and Frances into the house.

"There is never a dull moment in this house," Charles told Henry when he saw him.

Henry nodded but his eyes were drawn to Katherine who seemed not to have noticed him. She was busy with the baby in her arms and Frances who was trying to tell her something. She looked so different from the woman he had sent away from court a year and a half earlier. She had a warm smile on her face and she looked younger than she had in years. "She's beautiful," he whispered.

"And you're married to Anne," Charles whispered. "You said that you were never married to Katherine. You declared that marriage invalid."

"That doesn't mean I can't admire a pretty woman."

"As far as I'm concerned, she's my mother. Treat her as she deserves. And that goes for my wife as well." Charles spoke through clenched teeth and his normally peaceful face was clouded and tense.

"You changed, Charles," Henry remarked.

"I grew up-as all men ought."

* * *

Katherine was all civility and politeness until Henry left an hour or so later. She did not openly or actively do anything to remind him that he was not the only person of royal blood in the house. She had instead quietly avoided him. But unbeknownst to her, her behavior and appearance had left an impression on him, an impression that would bring only trouble to his marriage to Anne.

**

* * *

April 1534**

* * *

A few days before Easter, Charles Brandon found his mother-in-law sitting in the garden sewing. He sat down next to her and smiled. "How are the wedding preparations coming?"

"I'm finishing the embroidery on Cate's dress," Katherine replied.

"It's beautiful," he replied fingering the light blue fabric.

"She's a beautiful girl. She deserves a beautiful wedding."

Charles nodded. "Mary didn't have a beautiful wedding sadly."

"I don't think she minds, Charles. I think she is quite content with the wedding you two had."

"We did not have a papal dispensation beforehand."

"Which you needed because you'd been married to her aunt," Katherine asked.

Charles nodded. "Henry probably never thought about needing any sort of dispensations. He never did anything about it or even mentioned it. But Chapuys is petitioning the Pope for us. Before the wedding, I asked him to do what he could. A few months ago, he said something about being able to get us a dispensation that won't require us to have another wedding or anything like that."

She nodded. "The Pope proposed a dispensation like that to fix the one that Henry and I had, but Henry just wanted to get rid of me. He did not want the marriage to be valid because he did not want me to be his wife."

"Do you still consider yourself to be his wife?"

She smiled. "What do you think?"

"Well, I still think you are, but I want to know what you think."

Katherine ran a tender hand over Charles's head. "I love Henry. He was my husband for many years and he is the father of my only child. I will consider myself his wife for as long as we are both living."

"So you would never consider marrying again as long as Henry is alive?"

"Who would I marry, Charles? Who would marry me? I am forty-eight years old. I cannot bear children anymore and I never was much good at that in the first place. What use would I be as a wife? I am far more useful living quietly in the country helping my daughter and her family."

"You are useful here, but I want you to be happy. Are you happy?"

She looked down. "Henry broke my heart, Charles. I gave him everything that I had within me. I feel as though I am a country that has been plundered by its conqueror."

"Mama," he said softly. "I would see you smile. I want you to be happy again. I don't want you to live out the rest of your days as merely useful. I want you to have true joy again."

She smiled faintly. "I shall try for you and for Mary."

Charles kissed Katherine's cheek. "We love you and we want to see you happy again."

* * *

Sir Anthony Knivert and Catherine Willoughby were married from the church on Charles's estate the Tuesday after Easter. Eleanor and Frances were very enthusiastic and excited about the wedding until they realized that it meant that their beloved Cate was leaving Suffolk Manor. When Cate appeared in her traveling clothes the morning after the wedding, Frances began to cry. "You can't go!" she sobbed. "You can't leave me."

Charles picked his daughter up and kissed her. "Catherine has to leave, dear. She and Sir Tony are married now. She has to go to Sir Anthony's house now."

"But I don't want her to leave," Frances cried, throwing her arms around her father's neck.

"I will still visit, Frances love," Cate told the small child, rubbing her back.

"But you were our friend!" Eleanor protested from her mother's side.

Cate kissed Eleanor's cheek. "And I will still be your friend, but I will go live with Sir Anthony now. Your mother left her home to come live with your father when they were married and now that I am married to Sir Anthony, I will go live with him."

"But we will miss you," Frances said sadly as her father passed her to her beloved Cate.

Cate kissed Frances's cheek and smiled. "And I will miss you. I will miss all of you."

"Write to us often!" Eleanor exclaimed.

"Of course I will," Cate replied.

As Cate said her farewells to the children, Charles took Tony aside for a moment. "Take good care of her, Tony."

His friend smiled jovially. "You know I will. I love her."

"I'm serious, Anthony. Cate is like a sister to me. If you hurt her, I will kill you."

"Charles, how could I hurt her? I love her."

"I was once like you. When I was first married to Margaret, I was unfaithful to her. I know that I hurt her and I deeply regret it. But I changed. I am determined to remain faithful to my wife and I advise you to do the same. Even if she doesn't know what you're playing at, it will hurt her."

Tony sighed and laughed. "I will behave myself, Papa."

Charles smiled grimly. "Do try to be serious and take care of Catherine."

* * *

"I don't trust Tony," Charles told Mary when they were alone in their bedroom that evening.

"I thought he was your friend," she replied, leaning against his bare chest.

He pulled her into his lap and sighed. "He is my friend. But I have known him my whole life and I know what he is. I know what I used to be and I know that I hurt your aunt. I don't want to see him hurt Cate the way that I hurt your aunt."

"Why did you do it?" Mary asked softly. "Why were you unfaithful to my aunt?"

"Maria, I used to believe that sex was a necessity of life. Being at court with your father, I had my pick of women whenever I wanted. I loved your aunt but she was only one woman. I had become accustomed to having my way with many women. I was not about to give that life up. And then your aunt became pregnant. She fell pregnant very quickly after our wedding. I was not what I am now. I did not see that, as my wife and especially as my pregnant wife, she had to make sacrifices too. In fact, I know now that women make far more sacrifices when they are big with child than we men do. But then, I didn't know that. So I kept carrying on with other women."

"Did you ever father any bastards?" Mary's voice was soft and anxious.

Charles shook his head. "No, I suppose that in some ways I have been quite fortunate in that regard. My only children are my legitimate ones."

Mary nodded. "But you changed when Eleanor was born."

"I heard your aunt crying loudly during childbirth and I began to fear that she would die. I loved her and she was laboring to bring my child into the world. As I sat in the hallway listening, I realized that I had hurt her by my infidelities. I knew that she knew about my dalliances. I had always known that, but until the day Eleanor was born, I hadn't cared. She was struggling to bring my child into the world and I had neglected her throughout the previous months. When I held Eleanor for the first time, I fell in love with my wife and I promised her that I would always be faithful to her from that day forward. And then I made you that same promise when I married you."

Mary kissed her husband's collarbone. "And to my knowledge, you have kept that promise. You have been nothing but the best of husbands to me."

"Maria mia, I have tried every day to be that to you. I love you and I want only the best for you."

"You have given me more than I could ever imagine," she replied before laughing.

"What is it?"

Mary took Charles's hand in hers and rested it on her belly. "He is an active little one. He keeps kicking me when I'm with you."

"He?" Charles repeated as he felt the baby stirring under his hand. "How are you so sure this child is a male? I would be quite content with another daughter."

Mary laughed and kissed her husband's chin. "I cannot explain how or why I know this. But maternal instinct tells me that this child is a boy."

Charles laughed. "And what do you propose we name this son of ours?"

"William," she replied.

"After my father?" he asked.

Mary nodded. "I know you never knew him, but I thought it would be nice to honor him somehow."

"And William is a name that your father most likely won't see as a loaded attack against him."

"It could be seen as reminiscent of William the Conqueror, which would hopefully be seen in a positive light."

"No Edwards in our family then?"

"Not yet at least," Mary replied, running a lazy finger along Charles's jawbone. "Maybe we could name one of our later sons Edward. I think my father would appreciate that."

Charles laughed. "How many sons do you expect us to have, Maria?"

She shrugged. "As you once told me, I am young and have shown myself to be quite fertile. I am only eighteen. God willing, we could have many more children."

Her husband smiled and began to rub her belly. The baby continued to stir as he continued to rub. Mary smiled as Charles kissed her belly.

"You could be endangering your life if we had more children."

"And that is a risk that I am willing to take."

Charles looked at his wife firmly. "I already lost one wife to childbirth. I would not like to surrender another."

"Then we will pray to God that you will not need to."

**

* * *

June 1534**

* * *

Chapuys arrived back from the Continent in early June and hurried to Suffolk. He had been in Vienna, Madrid, and Rome and the Brandon house in Suffolk was starting to sound pleasant to him. Yes, there would be five energetic children cavorting about the house, but there was something relaxing about the Brandon family.

But more importantly, he had communications for the Duke of Suffolk from both the Pope and the Emperor. Upon arriving at the house, he found Mary and Katherine in the drawing room with the children. After greeting them, he immediately requested private conversation with the duke. Katherine, who was on the floor playing with Meg and Charlie, directed him to the duke's study and there he found Charles pouring over estate affairs.

"Eustace, you have returned at long last!" Charles exclaimed, jumping up from his work. "How were your travels?"

Chapuys smiled. "They were successful and they are at an end. For both of those things, I am grateful."

"You have had success in obtaining a dispensation for my wife and myself at long last?" the duke asked as they sat down by the fire. "Forgive me, Eustace. Would you like something to drink?"

"Please," the Imperial Ambassador replied. "I have much to tell you and more for you to read."

Charles called for wine and then looked at his companion. "You have obtained a dispensation for us, have you not?"

Eustace slowly sipped his wine and collected his thoughts. "I have. The Pope was most eager to issue a dispensation that made your marriage to the Princess Mary valid. Furthermore, both he and the Emperor have pledged their support behind the Princess Mary and the children of your marriage as the true heirs of the English throne."

"This is not surprising."

"They expect that when you and the Princess Mary are crowned king and queen, you will restore the True Faith to England."

"They expect to see me crowned King of England?" Charles asked. "But I am of common birth. True, my father was a knight and I am now a duke. But I was not born to this title. I am not worthy to be the king."

"But you are married to the Princess Mary. England will not accept a queen who reigns alone, especially not a married queen who reigns without her husband. They will demand you as king. And you will become king."

"I don't want to be king, Eustace."

Chapuys smiled. "Your Grace, to my way of thinking, that may make you a better king. Your father-in-law wants to be king. He enjoys power."

"I don't," Charles replied flatly. "I am quite content here in Suffolk."

"By virtue of your marriage, you have attained the right to be king. Princess Mary is the legitimate heir to the throne. You are her husband. Therefore, when Henry dies, you and Princess Mary should be crowned King and Queen of England."

Charles sighed. "Let me see the letters from the Pope and the Emperor."

Chapuys handed Charles two letters. "Would you like me to leave you?"

The duke nodded. "But send my wife in. I would like to speak with her."

"Of course, Your Grace," the ambassador answered with a bow. "Before I leave, may I ask one more question?"

Charles nodded wordlessly as he opened the letter from the Pope.

"When is Princess Mary expected to be brought to childbirth?"

"July, she will be entering her confinement any day now," the duke replied. "But be careful where you call her by that name. It is considered treason in many parts to say that name even though it is the truth."

Chapuys smiled. "I would have Your Grace know that the Princess's claim is supported by the Emperor and the Pope. And the Emperor has some hopes that France would also support the Princess's claim."

"We will see what happens with time," Charles replied. "And we will pray that God's will be done."

Chapuys nodded and left the room.

* * *

Mary shuffled into her husband's study a few minutes later. "What news did Chapuys bring?" she asked as she walked towards her husband.

Charles looked up at his wife. She was resting one hand on her great belly and the other on his desk. "Come here, Maria. Sit on my lap."

She smiled. "Charles, I am eight months gone with child."

"I promise you the chair can bear us both," he replied.

"If you say so," she told him and sat down on his lap.

He kissed her cheek and put a hand on her belly. "How is our child today?"

"Active," she replied with a sigh. "He moves and kicks all the day and night. And I believe that he has the hiccups right now."

"The hiccups?" Charles asked.

Mary smiled. "Watch my belly."

Sure enough, Mary's belly moved up and down softly. Charles laughed and kissed his wife's belly. "I cannot wait to meet this little one."

"Neither can I," Mary replied. "But what news did Chapuys bring?"

"The Pope has validated our marriage."

"So I am not your whore," she said almost bitterly.

"You never were, my love. You have always been my true wedded wife since the day of our wedding."

"But it is only now, almost two years after our wedding, that the marriage is validated."

"I asked Chapuys to ask the Emperor to petition the Pope before I left to marry you. Unfortunately, it takes time for messages to travel."

"And I'm sure that it took the Emperor and the Pope time to see the political advantages of having us granted a dispensation to marry so that our marriage could be valid and our children would be legitimate heirs to the throne of England."

Charles smiled. "You are wise, my love."

"So what does the Pope say?"

"He grants us a retroactive dispensation to marry despite my previous carnal knowledge of and marriage to your aunt. Also, he tells us that he endorses you as the true and legitimate heir to the throne of England. Our children are to be considered your legitimate heirs. Furthermore, he will persuade all true Christian princes of Europe of this fact."

"And what says my cousin, the Emperor?"

"He says that he endorses you and your children as the true heirs to the throne of England. Furthermore, he pledges his support to our mutual claim to the throne. He and the Pope believe that when you are crowned queen, I must also be crowned king."

"I would agree with that," Mary replied. "I need you to rule with me if I am ever Queen of England."

"It seems that much of Christendom agrees with you, Maria. The Pope and the Emperor will endorse and support our claim to the throne when your father dies and they ask that we restore England to the True Faith when we are crowned."

His wife rested her head against his shoulder. "I want to do that. That is the only reason I want to be queen. Other than that, I would be quite content to remain in Suffolk and raise our family in peace."

Charles ran his hand over her belly and smiled. "You very much enjoy motherhood, Maria."

She leaned back and rested her hands on her great belly. "I am immensely uncomfortable right now and I know that I still have a while before this child comes. But I love teaching and nurturing our children. I love being a mother. It makes me happier than I ever could have imagined. And with a kind, devoted husband these last few weeks will go quickly and not seem as difficult as they could be."

"I strive always to be a kind and devoted husband."

Mary pt her own hands on top of her husband's hands on her belly as the baby kicked and they both smiled.

**

* * *

July 1534**

* * *

"Henry, do you not love me?" Queen Anne asked her husband at dinner one night in early July.

He looked at her. "Of course I do. Why do you question my love?"

"You went to Suffolk to Katherine and Mary."

"In February," he replied coldly.

"You did not tell me that you were going."

"It is no business of yours."

Anne sniffed. "I am your wife. You have every right to tell me if you are going to see them."

"Charles is my oldest friend in this world and I went to see him and his family. As it happens, his family includes the Lady Mary and the Dowager Princess of Wales."

"People might hear of your visits to that family and think that you are attempting to legitimize Mary and her children."

"And why should that bother you?" Henry replied with a light bitterness.

Anne glared at him. "You have vested the succession in Elizabeth, our daughter. Our children are the right and true heirs to the throne."

"Our children?" he repeated. "We have only one child, my lady, and that is a female child."

"We will have more!" Anne yelled, knocking a goblet off the table. "I will give you sons."

"Charles and Mary have produced a son," Henry replied firmly. "You have only a daughter. They have a son and a daughter, and I expect to hear any day now that Mary has given birth to another child."

"And what does that matter to you?"

"You have not provided me with a male heir and I need a male heir. Mary, who is Katherine's daughter, has a son and the possibility of more sons. Katherine is the Emperor's cousin. If you do not provide me with a male heir quickly, I will take your crown and your title from you and give everything to Mary."

"You love me, Henry. You love me and you love Elizabeth."

"Whatever love means," he replied harshly. "I need a male heir to prevent this country from descending into civil war. Love has nothing to do with it."

Anne looked at Henry. "I am your true and lawful wife. With God as my witness, I love you and I am your true and wedded wife."

"That is debatable," Henry replied.

* * *

A/N: Please review.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: I don't own what you recognize. I do, however, love and appreciate reviews.

**

* * *

July 1534**

* * *

The fifteenth day of July found Mary in bed. A few days earlier, she had chosen to confine herself to her quarters until after giving birth because she was found going up and down the stairs too much for her legs and back. She was having occasional contractions but nothing consistent yet. Charles and Katherine periodically brought the children to see her, but for the most part, she was resting peacefully and waiting for the child to be born.

That afternoon, Charles brought the twins to see their mother. While neither twin could talk, Meg was quite mobile and very talented at expressing what she wanted by means of pointing and gesturing. Charlie, on the other hand, used grunting to communicate. Alone with their parents however, the twins were content to cuddle and be cuddled. Meg kept kissing her mother's belly and smiling proudly, which made her parents laugh.

"How are you, my dear?" Charles asked as the twins played quietly together.

She leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed. "Look at me, Charles. I'm a vast carriage. And I hurt everywhere."

He kissed her forehead and ran a hand over her swollen breasts and heavy belly, which were covered only by her thin shift. The July heat had made wearing her dresses uncomfortable and Mary preferred to be as comfortable as possible at the end of her pregnancy. "I love you, Maria. You are beautiful, so beautiful."

Meg crawled back to her parents and kissed her mother's belly, which made both of her parents laugh. But a moment later, Mary was groaning. "Wet," she gasped. "Charles, the baby, now, it's coming now."

Looking back, he wasn't entirely sure how he had done it, but Charles had the twins out of the room in Maggie's arms and had asked her to send for Mrs. Hastings in the blink of an eye.

* * *

William Brandon was born before Mrs. Hastings or Maggie had arrived in the room. When Mrs. Hastings came into the room, she found the duke holding the newborn baby who was covered in afterbirth and still connected to his mother by the umbilical cord. "Bless my soul," she cried as she set about helping clean things up. "That went quickly."

"One minute he was inside of me and the next thing I knew, he was coming out," Mary sighed. "I barely even noticed it happening. It barely hurt."

Charles smiled as he carefully cleaned the baby with water Maggie had brought. "But you are well and he is well. And he is a boy."

"A fine healthy strong boy," Mrs. Hastings remarked, taking him from the duke. "He is a plump child."

Mary laughed. "Is that why I was so large?"

The housekeeper laughed as she swaddled the baby. "You must see him, Your Grace. He is covered in fat and oh so darling. I don't know when I have seen such a fat little baby."

"But he came out so easily," Charles commented. "It all happened so fast."

"Forgive me for being crude, Your Graces, but I think that God made Her Grace with a body fit to bring many children into the world safely."

Mary smiled as she took her new son in her arms. "We will accept as many children as God gives us. And Charles, could you please tell my mother and the other children?"

"Of course, do you want to see them now?"

"My mother first and then the children after her," she replied.

"And I'll send a message to your father. He will want to know, of course."

Mary nodded. "Thank you."

"It is my pleasure," Charles said as he turned to leave the room.

"Darling," his wife called after him.

He stopped and turned back to her. "Yes?" he answered.

"I love you."

Charles beamed. "And I love you."

* * *

Katherine had tears in her eyes when she held little William for the first time. "He's such a big baby," she told Mary.

Mary leaned back into the pillows and smiled. "Mrs. Hastings says he is one of the fattest babies she has ever seen."

"He is certainly larger than any baby I have ever seen."

"But he is so handsome, Mama. And he has Charles's nose."

Katherine smiled as she ran a finger over the nose in question. "He is a beautiful baby. He has so much hair and it's so dark."

Mary smiled. "Charlie and Meg both had dark hair when they were born too. And now they both have thick curls."

"You and Charles make beautiful children."

"That is entirely by the grace of God. We do not do it intentionally."

Katherine laughed. "Would you like me to get the other children and bring them to see William?"

"Please," Mary replied with a smile. "And ask Mrs. Hastings to send my husband in whenever he is done with his letter to the king."

Katherine kissed William's red little forehead before returning him to his mother's arms. Then she kissed Mary's forehead and smiled. "Maria, you have done so well."

* * *

A few short minutes later, all of William Brandon's older siblings were on his mother's bed to meet him. Eleanor and Frances, at six and four, were patient and careful in their attempts to see their new brother. But Henry made his mother nervous because he wanted to touch everything and she was afraid he was going to poke his new brother in the eye. Meg was a dear who just wanted to see the baby and Charlie was entirely disinterested in the whole process and only wanted to attempt to get his foot in his mouth.

Needless to say, Charles's entrance into the room was welcome. After settling himself on the bed, he scooped Henry and Meg into his lap so they could see the baby but not hurt him. And he also pulled Charlie into his lap and rescued a small foot from small teeth.

"Papa, look at the baby," Frances said. "He is so pretty."

Charles smiled. "He is a handsome lad."

"He looks like his father," Mary said.

"No he does not, Mama!" Frances protested. "The baby is little and red and Papa is tall and not red."

Charles laughed and kissed Frances's forehead. "Mama merely thinks that your new brother will look like me when he is older."

"Were you little and red once, Papa?"

"I suspect so, but alas I do not remember being little and red."

"You don't remember being a baby?" Frances asked.

Her father laughed. "No, but I do remember when Mama was a baby."

"Was she little and red?"

"Indeed she was," Charles said, winking at his wife as she blushed.

"Did she scream all the time like Charlie did?"

"No, she was a very well-behaved baby. She rarely ever screamed."

"Did I scream?"

"No, you were a very quiet little girl."

Frances smiled. "I knew I was wonderful."

* * *

King Henry was with Thomas Boleyn when a messenger from Suffolk arrived. "A son," Henry said with a smile as he read the note. "Mary and Charles have another son."

"What does that matter to Your Majesty?" Boleyn asked snidely. "She is your bastard daughter. Whether she has sons or daughters, her children can be nothing to you."

"On the contrary, England needs a male heir, Boleyn. I need a male heir."

"Anne will give you a male heir. Just give her time. You will have a son soon. I promise you."

Henry sighed. "All she has given me is a daughter and a miscarriage. The Lady Katherine did better than that."

"Why do you care about the Lady Katherine?"

"She is Mary's mother. Mary has two sons. I only have one dead bastard son. I think that I ought to take more notice of Mary and her children."

Thomas sighed. "She is only a bastard, Your Majesty. Surely you can be patient and wait for all that Queen Anne will give you."

"Two sons, Boleyn, TWO sons," Henry yelled, slamming his fist on the desk. "Brandon and Mary have two sons. I have nothing. I don't want to sit around and wait for what your daughter might give me when my daughter and Brandon have two sons."

"Patience, Your Majesty, I counsel patience."

"And if I die before your daughter produces this fabled sons, then Elizabeth will become queen with you as regent. You have great political reasons for counseling me to patience."

"Your Majesty, I think only of the good of England. I have no thoughts of my own personal gain."

"Boleyn, Charles and Mary have the support of the Pope and the Emperor. You and your daughter have cost me the love of both of those men as well as the King of France. I fear that your promises may prove only to be empty words."

"I would never lie to Your Majesty."

Henry sighed. "A king must always be careful in whom he trusts."

Thomas sniffed. "I am Your Majesty's most humble and devoted servant."

"I am going to Suffolk to meet my grandson," Henry replied flatly. "The Duke of Suffolk has requested that I not come until after the child is eight days old, but as soon as the child is nine days old, I will be in Suffolk."

* * *

Sure enough, Henry arrived at Suffolk Manor nine days after William Brandon's birth. The baby had been baptized the day before with Chapuys as his godfather, and his mother had been churched at the same time. When the king arrived at the house, the family was in the garden. Mary had the baby in her arms and Charles was on the floor playing with his five older children. Meg was walking and Charlie was trying to walk. The older three children were, in the meantime, playing with a ball.

Upon seeing her father approaching, Mary blushed. She had not expected to see anyone outside of her household just yet. She knew that the king was her father and would want to see her new baby. She, however, did not feel quite up to entertaining guests. She was tired and sore and she, despite what Charles might tell her, did not feel beautiful. She felt fat and awkward.

Her father, however, smiled to see her. "My darling Mary," he cried walking towards her. "Do not stand. Pray, I greatly desire to see this new son of yours."

She smiled and held the baby out to her father. "This is my son, William."

Henry took the baby from her arms and smiled. "He is a strong little lad, Mary. You and Charles have done well."

The baby stirred in his sleep and Henry smiled as he ran a finger over the little baby's free fist.

"He is handsome, isn't he?" Charles said.

"We think he looks like Charles," Mary remarked gently.

Henry nodded. "What color are his eyes?"

"Blue," Mary said. "Of course he'll have blue eyes, Your Majesty. Both Charles and I have blue eyes and it only stands to reason that our children would have the same."

"And he'll have thick brown hair like Meg and Charlie and their parents," Charles added with a smile.

"Meg and Charlie?" Henry asked.

"Margaret and Charles-Henry," Mary said stiffly. "Within in the family, we call them Meg and Charlie to distinguish them from other members of the family."

"Why do you not use Henry and call little Charles-Henry after his grandfather?"

Charles sniffed. "You forget that we have another son who was already named Henry before Charlie was born."

"You could have more than one son named Henry."

"Perhaps you could have more than one son with the same name, but I could not, Your Majesty," Charles replied flatly. "We have a Henry, then we had a Charles-Henry, and now we have a William. And there will be no more children named Henry in this family."

The king flinched under Charles's hard gaze. He quickly realized what the Brandon children all knew. Once Charles had made up his mind, there was no changing him and that glare was not going to suddenly turn into a warm, friendly smile. There would be no more children in the Brandon family named Henry. And the Brandon family would not easily bend to the will of the king simply because it was his wish. Henry had heard of the decisions from the Pope and the Emperor. Truth be told, it hurt him more than he wanted to admit. Henry VIII was not a humble man and he did not want to be. Other men-men like Thomas More or Charles Brandon-might ask the Lord to make them humble but Henry would not. He was a proud man and he was quite content that way.

The king's visit didn't last long, only a few hours. He met young William and was satisfied that both William and Charles-Henry were strong, healthy young boys. Then he returned to court. His visit had made it plain that he was bitter over the news that the majority of Europe believed Mary to be his true heir. While he wanted the male heirs coming from Mary's line, he did not want to admit that he might have been wrong about something.

**

* * *

February 1535**

* * *

Time seemed to fly after that summer visit. Meg and Charlie learned to walk and talk and were quickly everywhere babbling. Henry turned three and really started to become a little man. Eleanor and Frances continued to grow and learn new skills-and astound their parents in doing so. By February, William was sitting up and scooting around although he was steadfastly refusing to crawl, which Mary joked demonstrated some of his father's stubbornness.

* * *

One morning in late February, Charles awoke to find only two of his children in his bed along with his wife. William, who was still nursing at his mother's breast, always slept in his parents' bed. And Mary had brought Meg into their bed during the night after the little girl had woken frightened by something during the night. Meg was curled up against his chest while William was snuggled against his mother with his chubby thumb in his mouth.

But Mary was beautiful. Her thick curls hung loose while her thick eyelashes lay delicately against her rosy cheeks. Charles smiled as he ran a finger along his wife's cheekbone. She stirred softly, pulling the baby closer to her body. His fingers moved down his wife's elegant neck. Her thin shift barely disguised the body Charles knew well. Her figure had thinned quickly from nursing after William's birth. He had grown strong and chubby while his mother had grown thinner.

Mary had told Charles shortly after Christmas that she did not want to have any babies during 1535 because she had too much on her hands with the twins and William. She didn't want to be overwhelmed with four babies. To be honest, Charles did not mind terribly. It did require self-control on his part, but in the long run it was for the best.

All these thoughts were in his mind when Mary's eyes fluttered open and she smiled. "Charles, you've been watching me sleep again."

He smiled. "I am guilty, my love. Do you mind terribly?'

She kissed his cheek. "You're my husband. I don't mind a bit."

"Good, I happen to enjoy watching you."

Mary ran a hand over her husband's cheek. "You're growing a beard."

"Do you mind terribly? It keeps my face warm in the winter."

"I don't mind it one bit. I think it gives your face a more mature cast."

"Did I look too childish for you?"

Mary laughed merrily, which woke William who began making soft noises. She sat up and held him to her breast where he fed hungrily. She smiled. "This one is childish. You merely do not look like a man of thirty-four years."

"It is almost thirty-five years now, Maria."

"Thirty-five years," she repeated. "It sounds so grown up."

"Both of your parents are older than I am," he replied, pulling a still sleeping Meg into his lap.

Mary nodded. "I know, but somehow, thirty-five years old seems so grown-up when I'm only nineteen."

"You were sixteen when I married you," Charles replied, running an affectionate hand over Meg's dark brown hair. "You were half my age. We are growing closer in age now."

"We will always be sixteen years apart. The math will never change."

Charles laughed. "I am well aware of that. But sixteen years will seem like less time when you are thirty and I am forty-six than it does now."

Mary smiled. "I'm sure it will. But for now, I am nineteen and you are almost thirty-five."

"And Meg is not yet two," Charles remarked as he tenderly stroked his daughter's back.

"Eleanor is almost seven," Mary remarked.

"I know," her husband replied with a touch of sadness in his eyes. "My children are growing up too quickly."

"We can have more."

"Just not quite yet," Charles said.

"No," Mary replied. "Not for a while yet, I'm not quite ready to have another baby in the house just yet. Meg, Charlie, and William all need to be a bit more independent before I handle being big with child again or raising another baby."

**

* * *

April 1535**

* * *

Tony and Cate Knivert came to Suffolk for Easter. Cate was with child and due in August, which kept her from being able to play with the younger members of the Brandon family as freely as she had formerly. She was, however, still able to take a stroll with Mary and have a conversation that the duchess found very enlightening.

"How is life with Tony?" Mary asked.

"He is very kind and very good to me," Cate replied. "And he is very excited about the baby coming. He says that if it's a boy we're going to name him Henry."

"And what if you have a girl?" Mary probed. "What would you name her?"

Cate shrugged. "I'd like to name my first daughter Mary, for you and for my mother."

Her companion smiled. "That would be lovely and I would be honored."

"We also want you and the Duke to be the child's godparents. Well, Tony would like it if we had the King and Queen, but I can't do that. The Duke has taken care of me so carefully since my father passed. You and he, you're my family."

Mary squeezed Cate's hand. "We're honored. Really, Charles and I are quite honored that you think so highly of us."

"Mary, I need to ask you another question. It is an odd question, a personal question."

"You can ask me anything, Cate. What is it?"

"You've, well, Mary, when you were big with child, did His Grace," Cate stammered, not getting to her point at all.

Mary stopped and looked at Cate. "Dear, what is it?"

"Do you and Charles always sleep in the same bed?"

"Every night since we were married," Mary replied. "We've only slept apart when he has been away in the king's service."

"Even when you were big with child, was he there every night?"

"Every night," she replied.

Cate took a breath. "Did he ever take a mistress? In the time you've been married, has he ever taken a mistress?"

"Never," Mary replied flatly.

"Oh," Cate said as her face fell.

"Cate, dear, has Tony taken a lover?"

Cate sniffed but wouldn't say another word on the subject. She only said, "William is growing so quickly. He is such a handsome little man."

* * *

When she left Cate, Mary went immediately to Mrs. Hastings to ensure that there was no way Sir Anthony could gain access to the female servants. "I know that we have some pretty young maids here," Mary told the housekeeper. "And they are all lovely girls. I do not want to see any of them damaged by Sir Anthony."

"Do you suspect that he might, well, try something, Your Grace?"

Mary nodded. "I do not trust him and I know that His Grace does not either."

Mrs. Hastings nodded. "Well, Maggie always sleeps in your antechamber and I am certain that Your Grace or His Grace would hear if something went amiss in there. And Bessie always sleeps in the room Lord Henry and Lord Charles share."

"And the rest of the maids?" Mary asked.

"They are all in the servants' quarters with me. I'll take care of everything, Your Grace."

Mary smiled. "Thank you, Mrs. Hastings. I just don't want anyone else to get hurt."

"Who would be hurt and how would they be hurt?" Charles asked as he walked into the kitchen carrying William.

Mary took her squirming son in her arms and smiled grimly at her husband. "Tony would be doing the hurting and it is our maids who could be hurt."

"So he's cheating on Cate now, is he?"

Seeing anger in her husband's eyes, Mary put a firm hand on his shoulder. "Charles, don't do anything rash. Please don't."

"I'm only going to kill him. I told him that if he hurt her, I would kill him. Now that he's hurt her, I have to kill him."

"Charles, they're going to have a baby."

"I know," he replied. "And I'm going to kill Anthony."

"So the baby will be fatherless."

"I told him not to hurt her."

"I'm going to leave now," Mrs. Hastings said softly as she slipped out of the room.

Mary nodded and then looked at her husband. "I know something about being fatherless, Charles. And if you are honest with yourself, so do you. I do not wish that on Cate's baby. I do not want that little one to grow up like I did."

"May I at least hurt him ? I could break his legs when he is sleeping."

Mary adjusted William on her hip. "Charles, darling, I love you. And I know that you don't want Tony to hurt Cate. I know you want to protect Cate, but Tony is her husband. There is nothing you can do in this situation."

"I don't like this, Mary. He's doing what I told him not to do."

"Charles, he's doing exactly what you did when you were first married to my aunt."

"Then he is a fool."

Mary sighed. "That may well be, but no one killed you when you were being a fool."

"But I changed."

"So pray that he also changes."

"And what do we do if he doesn't change?" Charles asked, concern permeating his voice.

Mary smiled. "Then you can break his legs, but I would recommend that you try talking to him first."

Her husband nodded. "Then I will."

"But be nice," Mary cautioned. "Please do not act like a bear or a lion. You do not want to provoke his anger on this subject."

"William, listen to your mother," Charles told the little boy in his wife's arms. "She is wiser than I could ever hope to be."

William grabbed his father's nose and laughed.

* * *

After talking to his wife, Charles began to look for a time to talk to Tony privately. He finally found it during the afternoon on Good Friday. Mary and Katherine had taken the children to the garden to play while Cate had gone to rest. So Charles invited Tony into his study. After pouring wine, he asked, "How is married life treating you?"

Tony shrugged. "Cate is lovely. And I am glad that there is a baby coming."

"I'm sensing that you aren't entirely happy though."

"When Mary was with child, did she complain because you took a mistress?"

"I didn't take a mistress, Tony. I've told you that before."

Tony looked at his friend. "Why didn't you?"

"That's personal, Tony. Simply put, I did it out of respect for my wife. Taking a mistress would have hurt her far more than not taking a mistress hurt me."

"You simply did not sleep with anyone?"

"No, Mary and I have shared a bed until the day she gave birth both times now. And I would imagine that we will continue that practice with any future children we may have."

Tony shook his head. "You are a strange man, Charles."

"I am a man who is completely devoted to his wife."

"I love Cate, but I don't want to have to give up intercourse simply because she is big with child."

"You love Cate but you are not willing to make sacrifices for her sake? Do you realize that she cannot have intercourse until after she gives birth? She has to make a great many physical sacrifices to bring your child into the world."

"But I am a man. I have needs."

Charles sighed. "She could die in childbirth."

"That is not terribly likely."

"Tony, listen to me. I lost my first wife to childbirth. I gained a son, but I lost my wife. I know of what I speak. You do not want to go through the hell that was my life when I lost Margaret."

Anthony Knivert looked at his friend. "I'm not like you, Charles. I'm not the saint you are. I can't be the perfect husband and father like you can."

"Why can't you?"

"I'm selfish."

Charles ran a frustrated hand through his hair and glared at Tony. "I'm not perfect, Tony. I just want to do what's right."

"Well, I want to be happy. I want to stay in the king's good graces. I want to enjoy my life."

"I do enjoy my life even if I am not in the king's good graces. I have six wonderful children and a beautiful wife." Charles could not hold in the smile at the thought of his family. "They say that the king is the sun and to be away from Court is like living away from the sun. But I disagree. I have been away from Court for almost three years now and my life has never been better."

Tony looked at Charles. "I love Cate, but she can't replace what I have at Court. Being so close to the king is a thrilling place to be, especially in the middle of all of these changes His Majesty is making to our country."

"What does it profit a man if he gains the world but loses his soul in the process?" Charles asked his friend, quoting Scripture.

"I will not change just because you tell me to do so, Charles."

The Duke of Suffolk rolled his eyes. "Promise me that you will think about what I have said. That is all I ask."

"Very well, but I cannot promise you miracles."

**

* * *

May 1535**

* * *

Three weeks after Easter, King Henry again arrived in Suffolk. Anne had miscarried again a few days earlier and he was furious with her and with himself. He had passed the Oath of Succession, he had overturned England, and she still could not give him a son. Thomas More, his friend, was steadfastly refusing to sign the Oath. Bishop Fisher, Catherine's former advisor, was already in prison for refusing to sign. He had moved heaven and earth for Anne and she had only given him a daughter in return.

Upon his arrival in Suffolk, the king was shown to the garden where he had met young Lord William Brandon ten months earlier. "The duke and duchess are out riding," Mrs. Hastings told him. "But the children are in the garden and Their Graces should be back soon."

He found the children playing with Katherine. Katherine, she had been so beautiful when he first met her so many years ago. And now, she had recaptured much of the beauty of her youth. She was smiling as she played with the children. She was chasing the two older girls whose names Henry could never remember much as she used to chase Mary when they all were younger. And the little boys were chasing her while the youngest girl sat on the edge of the fountain, clutching a doll and sucking her thumb.

"Your Majesty, what brings you to my house?" Charles came up next to Henry.

"I needed to escape from Court. Everything is chaos now."

Charles raised his eyebrows, but before he could say anything, his youngest daughter came running to him still clutching her doll. "Papa, I need you," she said softly.

He picked her up, kissed her cheek, and settled her on his hip. "What is it, Meg? What is troubling my little angel?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck. "I miss you."

"Well, I am here now and you can stay with me as long as you like."

The little girl smiled and kissed Charles's bearded cheek. Henry blushed at the sight, thinking that little Margaret could not have been much older than his Elizabeth and he had never had a moment like that with her. Elizabeth most likely never cried because he was not there.

Just then, Mary came up next to them with William in her arms. The little boy looked so much like his father with his thick brown curls and warm blue eyes. And he was already showing himself to be long-limbed and lithe like his father. He was not yet a year old and already the chubbiness of his early days was turning into long, agile limbs.

"Your Majesty," Mary said softly. "Welcome to Suffolk, what brings you to our home?"

"I needed a respite from Court," he told her. "And I wanted to see your children."

"They are all strong and healthy," Charles said.

"England needs a male heir," Henry replied looking at his daughter and her husband. "And Queen Anne has not given me a male heir."

"You have not given her nearly as much time as you gave my mother to do the same deed."

"Bishop Fisher is in prison. The Boleyns want to have Thomas More arrested as well. I have overturned this kingdom for that family and they have not given me sons. Your mother was never so demanding like Queen Anne is."

Mary smiled as her mother Charlie up and began to tickle the little boy who began to giggle merrily.

"That boy could be the King of England," Henry stated in low, firm voice. "That boy could be the heir that I so desperately desire."

* * *

A/N: Please review!


	12. Chapter 12

A/n: I don't own what you recognize. But I do love and appreciate all of my reviewers. If this chapter had a name other than "Chapter 12" it would be "The Shit Hath Hitteth the Fan."

**

* * *

June 1535**

* * *

In his mind, Charles was always aware that Charlie would most likely be king one day. And while King Henry had said that he wanted to take Charlie and William to Court, "to prepare them for their future duties," Charles Brandon refused. He, too, would likely be king one day and he would be king before Charlie. He could teach his sons how to read and write in English, Greek, and Latin and his wife could add Italian and Spanish to that. They could teach all of their children how to be fair and diplomatic. Mary and Charles could teach the children how about love, respect, honor, and responsibility.

And he felt that he, and Mary and Katherine, could do this better than Henry. He would not allow his children to be overindulged by people who were only interested in gaining from being near power. His children would not be preyed upon by people like Thomas Boleyn. They would learn how to garden and play and be normal human beings.

Charles feared jealousy and enmity between his sons. Henry Brandon was the oldest son, but his claims to the throne of England came after those of all of his younger siblings, all of his stepmother's children. Charles did not want this to be a source of tension between his sons. He wanted each of his children to know that regardless of their claims to the throne, they were valued. Their parents loved them. Just because Charlie would be king while Henry was the Duke of Suffolk and William would most likely join the Church that did not mean that one of them was better than the others.

And although he never spoke much of it, he had plans for his family if Henry died before removing the succession from Anne Boleyn's daughter. He had promises from Chapuys that the Brandon family could live quietly retire to Spain and live in peace and anonymity. He did not want to start a civil war; England had seen enough of civil wars. On the other hand, he did not want to see the throne of England in the Boleyns' proud, grasping hands. But he was not sure that a war would be better than leaving the throne to the Boleyns. And he hoped to God that he would never have to make that sort of moral decision.

With this thought in his mind, he crumpled each of the letters in front of me and slammed his fist down on top of it. Where would Henry's madness end? And how many more people would suffer before that came to pass?

* * *

One rainy afternoon in June found Charles in his study with Eleanor and Frances where he was teaching them Latin. He was determined that his daughters should have the best education possible even if it meant teaching them himself. Sir Thomas More had been King Henry's tutor many years earlier and as Henry's childhood friend and companion, Charles had received the same education. Now it was becoming useful so that he could teach his children.

It was clear to Charles that Eleanor was a bright child but she did not enjoy being kept indoors when she could be outside splashing in puddles. Frances, on the other hand, was a diligent and eager student. She kept asking her parents questions about things and asking them to explain more and more. "She is like her mother," Katherine told Charles. "She always has to know."

That particular afternoon found this statement to be true. While Eleanor was staring out the window at the rain, Frances wanted her father to help her write more words. Her favorite words were her name and the names of her family members. "I like the W," she told her father that afternoon. "And the F, F is my favorite letter."

"Is that because it starts your name?"

She nodded vigorously with a smile. "And it also starts Father, which is what I should call you. But I can also call you Papa."

"But Papa is not his true name. Sometimes, Mama calls him by another name. She calls him Charles," Eleanor interjected.

"That is my adult name," Charles told his daughters. "And that is what adults call me. But you are my daughters, so you call me Papa."

"And you call Mama Mary," his older daughter persisted. "Or Maria, sometimes you and Grandmother call her Maria, but I do not understand that."

"Maria is another way to say Mary."

"And Mary is Mama's adult name, yes?" Frances asked.

Her father nodded. "But she would prefer that you call her Mama."

"We know that," Eleanor replied frankly. "We know that we ought to call her Mama because she is our mother and children do not call their mothers by their adult names. Mama does not call Grandmother by her adult name. Instead, she calls her Mama. And so do you, but she is not really your mother. She is Mama's mother."

Charles smiled. "But she is like a mother to me."

"If I think you are like a mother to me, may I call you Mama?" Eleanor asked with a teasing glint in her eye that Charles knew she had inherited for him.

He pulled her into his lap and kissed her cheek. "No you may not, Eleanor. I am your father and not your mother. You may call me Papa or Father, but you will never call me Mama. Now go fetch your mother. I want to see her."

Eleanor sighed. "Sometimes I think you love Mama more than you love me."

"Not more," Charles told her. "I love her differently than I love you and your siblings. But that does not mean that I love her more."

"Okay," his daughter replied, hopping off his lap. "I will go find her and she will talk to you about how Charlie and Henry always get into trouble because they are silly little boys."

Charles laughed as Eleanor skipped out of the room. Frances looked at him and smiled. "I think she is very silly."

"And you aren't?" Charles asked, pulling Frances into his lap and tickling her.

* * *

When Mary came into the room a few moments later, her husband was still tickling Frances and the little girl was giggling. She watched them from the doorway for a few moments. Charles was a good father. Her mother had once said that this because he had practiced on her when he was a young man and she was a little girl.

At first, marrying a man who had three children had required some adjustments. But she was glad in many ways that she was Charles's second wife who did not have to live with his prior infidelities. She, unlike her mother or so-called stepmother, had a loyal husband. And said loyal husband was a devoted father. She loved watching Charles with their children.

Charles looked up and smiled. "I was beginning to wonder where you were."

"I've been watching you two," she replied walking over to her husband and daughter.

"Papa was tickling me."

"I saw, darling," Mary said as she ran a hand over Frances's cheek.

"Does Papa ever tickle you?"

The innocence of the question made Mary laugh. To her, tickling was how her father made her laugh. To her mother, it was something else entirely, but Mary simply smiled. "Fathers tickle their daughters. But it is different between husbands and wives."

Frances nodded. "Oh, I see." Then she added, "I think I want to play with Eleanor now."

After their daughter skipped out of the room, Charles motioned Mary to his lap. "Come sit with me, darling. I need to see you."

"You always want me to sit on your lap. It reminds me of sitting on your knee as a child."

"I think that it is quite different now," he teased. "When you were small, I held you as a father does a child, but now it is as a husband holds a wife."

"I am aware," Mary replied as she settled herself against her husband's warm strength. As a young child, she had drawn comfort from Charles's strong frame and warm embrace. But as his wife, it was different. She still drew comfort and strength from his presence, but there was something more to it. She knew more of Charles than she had before, more of him in so many different ways.

Charles looked at his wife. "I need to tell you two things and you will not like either one."

Mary nodded. "In the past three years, you have told me may things that I did not like, but this does not mean that I have ever stopped loving you or doubted your love for me."

Her husband pressed his lips together before opening them again to speak. "Firstly, Chapuys has written to me to tell me that Bishop Fisher is to be executed in two days."

"That will break Mama's heart."

"He is not dead yet."

"But how is it possible that he could ever survive?"

"That relates to the second piece of news. Your father wrote to me. He wants to rid himself once and for all of the Boleyns."

"This is good news, no?"

Charles shook his head. "It is and it is not. He also wants to bring Charlie and William to Court to raise them as his heirs."

"He expects to live until they reach adulthood and there is no hope that they would need a regent, eh?" Mary asked with a gleam in her eye.

Her husband laughed. "I do not know what he expects. All I know is that your father is not as young as he thinks himself to be. And you are nineteen."

"Will he set the succession to come to us or will he pass the throne directly to Charlie?"

"That remains unclear. Apparently, public opinion would prefer to see you take the throne, but your father is afraid of that."

Mary smiled. "Is my father afraid of us?"

"It might appear that way."

She kissed him. "I am not sure that I mind that as much as I once might have."

Charles put a hand on his wife's cheek. "I think that you are seeing your father for what he truly is."

"A monster," she replied flatly, pulling back from Charles a touch. "And if he rids himself of the Boleyns, what will become of Anne and of Elizabeth?"

"He says that he desires have Anne and her ilk gone from the kingdom forever, but I know not what that means," Charles said grimly.

"And Elizabeth, will she suffer as he once planned for me to suffer? She is but a child."

"Again, I do not know what your father plans for her, but I do not imagine it will be as comfortable as your life is now."

"I am sitting on your lap right now."

Charles rolled his eyes. "You are married to the Duke of Suffolk and have a comfortable life in the country with your loving children and your devoted husband."

Mary traced her husband's jawbone with her thumb. "Charles, I want to do what we can for Elizabeth. I do not like her mother, but Elizabeth is a child and she should not suffer for her parents' sins."

"I will not refuse you in this," Charles replied.

* * *

Chapuys arrived in Suffolk three days later and asked to speak with Queen Katherine before anyone else. They went to the garden while Mary and Charles stayed indoors. Mary was reading a letter from Cate Knivert while Charles was "wrestling" with Hal, as young Henry had come to be called, and Charlie. Eleanor and Frances were playing with Meg and William was in his mother's lap.

It never ceased to amaze Mary the amount of delight that her husband, their four-year-old, and their two-year-old derived from rolling around on the floor together while the boys punched and kicked their father. He told her once that the boys could not really harm him "unless they kick my manhood. Then it is an entirely different story. One wrong foot and it feels a bit like hell down there."

Ever since that conversation, Mary had kept an eye out for "one wrong foot" especially from Hal who was learning that he could kick hard. Charlie was still almost entirely harmless against his father's firm muscles. Nevertheless, Mary still worried a bit. Charles was not as young as he used to be. And while thirty-five was not old, she did not want to see her husband injured over a silly wrestling match with their sons. However, she was wise enough to know never to tell Charles about her concerns.

Cate's letter was not surprising. Her pregnancy seemed to be continuing well but Tony's behavior was still troubling her. It seemed that Charles had been unable to convince Anthony that perhaps marital fidelity was the better way to conduct his marriage. "One of my maids is with child," Cate's letter read. "And as she is unmarried, I have no reason to believe that Anthony is not the child's father. I long for our quiet life in Suffolk. Tony is at Court for the summer while I am alone in the country waiting for my child to come. Anne does not intend to harm me or offend me but the knowledge that our children have the same father breaks my heart. I love Tony but part of me wishes that I had never married him."

Mary looked up from the letter and saw Charles on the floor; Charlie was wrapped around his leg and Hal was sitting on his chest, punching him. How had she gotten so lucky to have the loving, faithful husband?

"Mama, are you crying?" Frances asked suddenly, looking up from her dolls.

"I just have something in my eye," Mary said softly as she set the letter down. "I think William and I will step outside for a moment or two while I clear my eyes."

* * *

After his wife left the room, Charles extracted himself from his sons' grip, picked up the letter, and followed her outside. Mary was walking in the garden with William on her hip and wiping her eyes. Charles took William from her and put a hand on her shoulder. "What does the letter say?"

"What do you think it says? It says that Tony is doing exactly what we expected he would do. He got one of Cate's maids with child."

Charles sighed. "How did I know that this would happen?"

"Because you have seen it happen many times before," Mary replied. "It is practically fashionable for married men to take mistresses."

"I wish I could help her. I wish that there was something more that I could do to help Cate. I was able to take care of her for so many years and now, I cannot."

"You will most likely have that feeling some day with our daughters too."

"No, only truly worthy men who swear upon their lives that they will never harm my daughters will be allowed to marry our daughters."

Mary smiled. "You may have to search the length and breadth of the kingdom to find such men."

"Then I will," he promised.

"I believe you truly will," his wife replied. "I believe that you feel a duty to protect the women in your life."

"I do," Charles told her firmly. "I hurt a woman once and I saw how awful that is. I will not allow that to happen to any woman whom I love ever again."

"Would you truly kill Tony for what he has done to Cate?"

"I would like to kill him. However, I believe that it may yet be possible for him to redeem himself. He can change and I would like to see that happen."

"But how do you know that he will?"

"I'll threaten to chop off his most valuable limb if he does not behave with more respect for his wife."

Mary smiled. "You are a determined man, Charles Brandon."

Just then, a squirming William inserted himself into the conversation by saying his first word, "Mama!"

Mary reached out her arms for her son who went to her but then began squirming again. "Do you want to get down, William love?"

"Huh!" he pronounced.

"I would wager that means yes somehow," Charles told his wife.

Mary put William down, and he toddled the few steps between his mother and his father. "Charles, he is not a baby anymore."

"He is only eleven months old, my dear. He is still a baby."

"He is walking and talking now. He will not be content to simply let me hold him and snuggle with him anymore."

Charles picked William up and smiled. "I can hold you and let you snuggle with me."

"And you could put another baby in my belly," she teased.

"I thought I was not allowed to do that until January."

Mary sighed. "William is trying to wean himself. I would not mind another child. And I do not want to be big with child in the heat of summer again. It was so uncomfortable."

Charles smiled. "I do not want to see you uncomfortable if I can help it."

"So we are agreed. We will have another baby in the near future. Now what have my mother and Chapuys been discussing for nearly an hour?"

"I do not know that. I suspect he came to speak with her about Bishop Fisher's fate."

"Why is it that no one ever comes to visit us with good news?"

Charles smiled. "I do not know. But perhaps there is good news about Bishop Fisher's fate. Perhaps he was not killed after all."

Mary smiled. "That would be good news indeed. But it is not likely. My father is not a merciful man."

Her husband nodded. "They are coming toward us."

"She is letting him hold her hand."

"Maria, have you ever considered the possibility that Ambassador Chapuys has feelings for your mother?"

"Have you ever considered it?" she asked without answering his question.

"No," he replied. "But seeing them just now made me think of it."

Mary smiled. "He would make her happy."

"He could take her away from England," Charles mused softly.

Mary looked at her husband and raised her eyebrows. "Where would he take her? He is the Imperial Ambassador to the English Court. It is not as though he could simply whisk her away to Spain."

"I saw that look on your face, Maria. You wish he could."

"I wish someone could take her far away from my father and make her happy."

Charles smiled. "But then she would not live with us."

"And I would miss her desperately. But I want her to be happy."

Katherine and Chapuys reached Charles and Mary just then. Neither of them looked happy, but Mary noted a sense of calm and peace on her mother's face.

"Bishop Fisher was executed yesterday, but Sir Thomas More will be released from prison," Katherine told her daughter and son-in-law.

"Did he give in and sign the Oath?" Mary asked.

Chapuys shook his head. "No, but His Majesty told me that he hopes that releasing Sir Thomas will be seen as a step towards peace in his realm."

Charles quirked an eyebrow and said, "Whatever that means."

"Also, His Majesty is going on summer progress without the harlot."

"We heard something of that," Mary said. "He wishes to visit here for a few days in late August. But we were given no explanation for Lady Anne's absence."

"None has been given at Court either, Your Grace," Chapuys replied. "It does, however, appear that the king has tired of her. One is constantly hearing rumors of mistresses."

"It is not kind to spread gossip," Mary said primly.

"Of course, Your Grace, nevertheless, I would have you know that it is likely that she will not trouble you much longer."

"However, it is likely that she will merely be followed by another wife," Katherine cautioned.

"God willing, another wife would be kinder to all of us," Charles said.

"No wife at all would be preferable," Katherine remarked.

"You do not wish to return to him?" Chapuys asked, startled.

"I may be in wife in the eyes of the Church and the eyes of God, but I have no desire to live out the rest of my days with a man who has willfully harmed so many people from such selfish motives. I would rather retire to a convent and live out the rest of my days in peace and contemplation."

"A convent?" Chapuys repeated.

"It seems the most convenient sort of place for a married woman who is entirely unwanted by her husband."

"But you are quite wanted by your daughter and her family," Mary replied.

"I will not trespass upon your goodwill forever."

Charles sighed as he adjusted his son his on his hip. "My dear Mama, as I have told you before, you are more than welcome here. We are very glad to have you here."

Katherine smiled. "We will discuss this later."

* * *

"She is a proud woman," Mary told her husband when they were alone in their bedroom that evening. William was sleeping in his father's lap and Mary was leaning against her husband's bare chest.

"I know she is, but it is sometimes very frustrating to me because I feel as though she does not want to live here," Charles explained with a note of frustration in her voice.

"She feels as though she is dependent upon our charity. And as the daughter of Ferdinand of Aragon and Isabella of Castile, she feels that she ought to be above that sort of thing. She was a princess of Spain and then the Queen of England."

"And now she lives with the Duke and Duchess of Suffolk at their expense and good pleasure," Charles finished his wife's sentence. "I understand. I merely wish there was a way we could make her happy."

"I know, darling. Alas, I think that the only thing that will make her happy is to know that you and I are happy. My father broke her heart and she will never be what she once was. The infidelities she could bear. Her father was far more unfaithful to her mother than my father was. And you have heard the stories of how her sister, Juana, was driven insane by her husband's infidelities. She bore those wounds because it was her duty as his wife and because she loved him. But then the Boleyns came along and my father abandoned her to the world's derision and our charity. She will never be the same as she once was. He destroyed her."

"And yet she still loves him."

"They say that even in her madness my aunt still loved the man who destroyed her life and her sanity. Perhaps unrequited love will always lead to madness."

Charles pulled his wife closer to himself. "I swear to all that is holy to you I will always be true. I wish to never cause you to descend into madness or to suffer a broken heart."

"If you die before me, then you shall break my heart."

"Then we shall have to die together of a disease or some sort of spectacular accident."

Mary laughed and kissed her husband's jawbone.

**

* * *

August 1535**

* * *

Early August of that year was hot. Nevertheless, Chapuys had become a frequent visitor to Suffolk. The newly-freed Sir Thomas More had visited the Brandon family once but was trying to keep away from the king's notice as much as possible.

But there were also many peaceful days of quiet country life. And it was on one of these that Anne Boleyn arrived at Suffolk House. A perturbed Mrs. Hastings showed the younger woman to the duke's study where he was talking over estate affairs with his wife. Both the duke and duchess were a bit startled at the sight of Anne. Nevertheless, they were determined to be polite.

"Why have you come here?" Mary asked Anne after passing her a glass of wine.

"I have a request to make of you," Anne replied softly.

"And why should we do anything for you?" Charles asked, his blue eyes cold and steady.

Anne paused She was a proud woman and the Brandons were not exactly her friends or allies. They had no reason-personally or politically-to want to help her. But she had to try. After a breath, she spoke. "I don't come to you as a queen. I come as a mother and it is as a mother that I need your help."

Mary nodded. "Go on."

"I fear that I am losing the king's favor, that he loves me no longer. And I think he will cast me off as he cast off the Lady Katherine before me."

"Should that surprise you?" Charles asked. "The king is a fickle man and I can tell you from experience that infidelity is a hard habit to break."

Anne flinched. "I know that we disagree about many things, Your Grace, but I come here on behalf of my daughter, the Princess Elizabeth. I believe His Majesty intends to have our marriage annulled and to declare our Elizabeth a bastard."

"We will not defend her on that account," Mary replied.

"I do not expect you to. Nevertheless, I ask you to protect her. I do not wish to see her thrown to the wolves."

"Why do you think we will help her?" Charles asked flatly before taking a casual sip of wine. "Why do you not seek help within your own family? You have not been kind to our family."

"You were kind to the Lady Mary when she fell on hard times," Anne protested. Desperation oozed from her voice and face.

"You forget, Madam, that the current Duchess of Suffolk was the favorite niece of the Dowager Queen of Portugal, my first wife. You and the Lady Elizabeth have no such claims on my affections." Charles's voice, to Mary's amazement, remained calm and steady. He held his eyes level and kept his hands firm on his desk.

Anne looked down. "So you will not help my daughter?"

"That is not what His Grace said," Mary replied. "He merely asks why we should help the Lady Elizabeth when your family has never been kind to ours."

"Because she is your sister," Anne pleaded. "Whether or not you like me, my daughter is your sister. Can you not have compassion on your poor sister?"

"And what would you have us do for this sister of mine?"

"Take her in and care for her as a member of your family, as you have taken in the Lady Katherine."

Charles leaned back in his chair and looked at his wife. Then he looked back at Anne. "The Dowager Princess of Wales, as you'd like to call her, is my mother-in-law. It is not as though I conduct some sort of refuge for discarded members of the king's household."

"As a father, can you not show compassion towards my poor child who will not be well-treated by her own father?"

"And what do you expect your own fate to be?" Mary inquired softly.

"Banishment, much like your mother," Anne replied flatly.

"And so you will expect access to your child, I suppose," Charles said.

"I would rely on your compassion in this matter."

"Compassion," Charles spat bitterly. "Where was your compassion when His Majesty overturned the kingdom for you? When were you ever compassionate towards Queen Katherine or Princess Mary?"

"I did not have them killed as I desired!" Anne snapped back, jumping up from her chair.

"Oh, rest assured, you cunning bitch, if you had tired that I would have snapped your feeble little neck with one hand," Charles replied fiercely with wrath in his eyes.

"You would threaten my life?" Anne asked, putting a hand to the aforementioned neck.

"Only because you threatened the lives of those most dear to me," he hissed, still sitting placidly.

"Then you will not help Elizabeth," Anne replied, defeat consuming her.

"Oh, we will help her," Charles stated flatly. "She will be raised as the Lady Elizabeth Tudor. She will be educated in the same fashion as my own daughters. And then she will be married to some Spanish or Austrian noble in the Emperor's court. And you will never see her. If you had not admitted to a desire to harm Queen Katherine or my beloved wife, then I would have allowed you to see Elizabeth. But now, I think not."

"I suppose you want to see Katherine back on the throne and reinstated as Henry's wife?"

"No, I do not," Charles told her firmly. "I want to see Katherine laughing and smiling, full of joy. Henry could not give that to her."

"You are an odd man."

"That may well be. But above all, I seek to serve my God first, my family second, and my country third."

Anne looked at Charles and then at Mary. "I suppose I ought to be grateful for your help."

"Apparently, I ought to be grateful you have never caused my death," Mary replied.

"If you were anyone else, we might have been able to be friends."

Mary shrugged and put a hand on her husband's shoulder. "Alas, I am who I am. And that is that."

* * *

As Anne left the study, she saw Katherine sitting in the hallway rolling a ball back and forth with Charlie and Hall. Anne could not help but smile at the sight of two little boys playing so happily. Katherine looked up at Anne.

"Your Ladyship," Anne said with a curt nod.

Katherine nodded. "Your Majesty, how are you?"

"You were right."

"I beg your pardon?" Katherine rolled the ball back to Hal.

"About the king, you said he would tire of me just like all the others and it seems he has."

"I am truly sorry."

"How did you know?"

Katherine shrugged. "Infidelity is a hard habit to break."

"The duke told me that same thing," Anne said softly.

The older woman nodded. "He would know. He broke it unlike so many men I have known in my life. He conquered that dragon."

"But what will I do without him?"

"Without Henry?" Katherine asked.

Anne nodded.

"I cannot tell you. I found other reasons to live but that is easier said than done. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must return to my grandsons."

Anne nodded and walked away, knowing that she and Katherine were two very different women.

* * *

A/N: Please review.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: I don't own what you recognize. I do appreciate all reviews. Also, someone commented that perhaps the king should give William a title as he has Charles. I should clear this up for all of you. Henry has not given Charles-Henry or William titles. He has thought about it but done nothing for fear of the wrath of the Boleyns.

Also, I know that this chapter took longer than usual to update. Unfortunately, I've been doing a lot of writing lately for school and that has not left me with as much time for this story as we all might like.

* * *

**August 1535**

* * *

A few days after Anne left, the king came. And Sir Anthony Knivert was in his company, which earned him a glare and low growl from Charles. Cate was due to give birth any day and Mary was hoping to go to Cate after the king left. "After all, no woman should be alone when she gives birth or has a newborn," she told her husband who had readily assented to her request. Katherine had already gone to the Knivert house so as to help Cate and avoid Henry.

* * *

The king's visit brought noise and energy to the relative peace of Suffolk Manor. The royal visit would only last three days but it brought three day of chaos to the house. Charles quickly realized that the noise of dozens of people milling about the house and gardens was upsetting some of the younger children when he awoke to find all of his children except for Eleanor in his bed the morning after the king's arrival.

"The next time your father invites himself to visit while on progress, tell him that we have gone away for the week," Charles told Mary over the heads of their sleeping children.

She smiled. "I think that my father thinks of our house as place for him to escape from his wife and live in a dream world."

"This is not a dream world for me. My dreams do not involve my son's head on my ribs."

Mary smiled and ran a hand over Charlie's head. "He loves you and wants to be with you."

"I love him too, but I also enjoy breathing."

"You could move him."

"But then I would have nothing to complain about."

"My poor darling Charles," Mary said running a hand over her husband's head. "You have suffered a great deal in your life."

He smiled. "And you, my dear lady, have always been patient with my sufferings."

* * *

Henry took advantage of his time in Suffolk to speak privately with Charles about some personal and important manners. "Upon my return to London, I intend to have Anne sent away from Court. Furthermore, I intend to have our marriage annulled and Elizabeth declared illegitimate."

"On what grounds?" Charles asked.

"I could choose any number. I have had previous carnal knowledge of her sister."

"As Supreme Head of the Church, you could give yourself a dispensation on that account. The Pope gave the Duchess and myself a dispensation with regards to my previous carnal knowledge of my wife's aunt."

Henry waved a hand. "Furthermore, I believe that she was not a virgin when we married."

"You believed that of Katherine as well."

"I have come to believe that Katherine was a virgin when we married. And even if she was not, the Pope did issue us a dispensation, which I now realize is valid. Furthermore, I have realized that the Roman Curia was correct in its rulings with regards to our marriage."

"Then, are you telling me that your marriage to Katherine is in fact valid and therefore your marriage to Anne is in fact invalid?"

"Yes, that is exactly what I am trying to tell you."

Charles rolled his eyes. "And so you intend to put Anne away from yourself and declare Elizabeth to be illegitimate?"

"Precisely," Henry replied eagerly. "Then, I will restore Katherine to her proper place as the queen of England and reestablish your wife as the Princess of Wales. In so doing, I will name you as the Prince of Wales."

Charles had long suspected that he would acquire the title of Prince of Wales at some point, but to hear that it was truth was startling. He was the Prince of Wales; he would one day be the King of England. A chill went down his spine, but he kept his face steady. "So you will pass the throne to Mary and myself? I had thought that you would pass it directly to Charles-Henry."

"I have no reason to not allow you and Mary the throne. Mary is my daughter and she is married to a man who will be a capable and strong king. Therefore, she and her husband deserve the throne."

"What will become of Elizabeth and Anne?" Charles asked.

Henry waved a dismissive hand. "Cromwell can figure that out. I suppose that I could either continue to provide for Anne as I did for Katherine or I could find her a husband who will keep her out of my way."

"And what will you do for Elizabeth?"

"I suppose that I must support her as I supported Henry Fitzroy during his lifetime."

Charles pressed forward. "Mary and I would like to take care of her as our ward and a member of our family."

"You want to take on my bastard daughter as your ward? What would you want to do that for? I do not understand you, Charles. First, you marry my Mary when I mistakenly thought she was illegitimate. And now, you want to take on Elizabeth as your ward. It is all very strange. But if it is what you want, I suppose you could have her."

"I married Mary because I did not want her to be forced to marry George Boleyn. I do not trust him."

"I suppose in that you are wiser than I was. I thought that I could trust the Boleyns."

"You were a man in love."

"I was infatuated with Anne. I never truly loved her. I could not see what was in front of me. I did not realize how wonderful Mary and Katherine are or how much I love each of them. But now, now I can repair everything and rebuild our world."

"Everything, Your Majesty?" Charles asked, quirking an eyebrow. "I do not mean to offend you, but have you considered the possibility that you may have hurt Katherine so severely that it may not be possible to repair your marriage?"

"She will be Queen of England again. What more could she want?"

Respect, honor, and love, Charles thought but did not say. He merely said, "I think that is a question you should ask her."

"But she is not here."

"No, she has gone to Lady Knivert to give her comfort and assistance as she prepares for the birth of her child."

Henry nodded. "When will she return?"

"Of that, I am not certain. My wife will leave for the Knivert home after your departure from our home. And they intend to remain with Lady Knivert for the first week or two of the child's life. They should be home again in early September."

"You would allow your wife to leave you for so long?"

Charles nodded. "I trust my wife, and she trusts me."

* * *

The following day, a messenger arrived from Katherine. Cate Knivert had given birth to a daughter whom she had named Mary. The delivery had been long and arduous, but the baby was healthy and strong. And Cate was expected to recover. Upon seeing her mother's letter, Mary immediately began preparing to leave. "I will be gone for ten days at most," she told her husband.

He nodded. "Tony will be going with you."

"He never said anything to me."

"He does not yet know."

Mary smiled and kissed her husband's cheek. "You are a good man, Charles Brandon, but you are also a hard man. You have high standards both for yourself and others."

"I believe in honor," he told her.

"On another topic," she said. "Do you know when my father intends to send Anne from Court?"

He shook his head. "He only told me that he would do it upon his return."

"Then go to Hatfield and bring her back here. My father leaves today. You can leave early in the morning tomorrow and return before nightfall." Mary looked at her husband with level, serious eyes. "Take her away from my father. I do not trust him with her."

"She does not know me. She may not willingly come with me."

"Lady Bryan will help you."

Charles nodded. "Elizabeth will be here when you return. But right now, I need to tell Tony that he is going with you."

Mary wrapped her arms around his neck. "You are wonderful and I love you." She pressed her forehead against his. "I love you, Charles. Now go talk to Tony."

Charles kissed his wife's lips. "Go tell the children farewell. Tony and I will meet you at the front gate in fifteen minutes."

* * *

Charles found Tony walking in the gardens. "Congratulations on your daughter," he said.

Tony smiled. "My thanks; I hear that the duchess is departing to look after my wife and child."

"And you will go with her."

"I am traveling with the king, Charles. I cannot simply leave him because my wife has given birth to a daughter."

"Yes, you can. And you will because your wife needs you."

"She will still be there in a week."

"Probably," Charles said. "The letter said that your wife is expected to recover. It did not say that it is certain that she will recover."

"What do you mean?"

"Women die in childbirth. It happens every day. Your wife has given birth to a daughter and you refuse to go to see them. Would you do this if she had given you a son?"

Tony stopped and turned to face Charles. "You think I should go to them?"

Charles clenched his fists behind his back. "I know you should go to them. You have a daughter and a wife who need you. So go with my wife. The Court will always be there. There will always be women willing to be your mistress. Your wife may not always be there."

"When did you become so logical?"

"The day Eleanor was born and I realized that I had sinned against heaven and against my wife," Charles replied. He felt as though he had spent much of the past three years repeating that fact. How could his friends not believe that he had grown up and become a better man with a better future for himself and his family?

Tony looked at his friend. "You really think I should leave with your wife."

"Yes," Charles said firmly. "You will not regret it."

Tony shrugged. "I suppose that Cate would appreciate it and it would be good to see the baby."

* * *

When Tony and Mary left for Knivert House in Norfolk, the sun was already setting. They rode through the night, sleeping in the carriage. Upon their arrival in the morning, they found Katherine with a squalling baby Mary Knivert. "And my wife?" Tony asked without even looking at the child. "Where is my wife? How is my wife?"

"She is sleeping in her room," Katherine replied. "The fever continues to rage and the physicians are not sure how much longer her body can continue to fight."

"Take me to her. Take me to my Cate."

Katherine handed the baby to Mary and then led Tony into his wife's room.

Cate's skin was gray. Tony immediately ran to her bed and knelt next to it. He took her hand in his but it was cold and heavy. Nevertheless, he held it to his lips. Then he turned to Katherine. "How long has she been like this?"

"Since about an hour after the birth," was her sad reply. "She labored for many hours to bring little Mary into the world, and it seemed to take a great deal from her physically. However, she rallied for a bit and was able to hold the babe and feed her from her breast. Unfortunately, after a bit, she began to radiate fever."

"What do the physicians say?"

"If the fever breaks soon, she will live."

"And if it doesn't?" Tony asked with fear in his voice.

Katherine shook her head. "We can only pray."

"This is what Charles felt when he lost Margaret, is it not? I feel as though my heart were breaking."

"I know not what Charles felt when Margaret died, but I do know that it did break his heart for a time," Mary said softly from the doorway where she stood holding the baby.

Tony jolted when he saw Mary holding her tiny namesake. He kissed his wife's cold hand again before rising and walking to Mary. "May I hold her, Your Highness?"

She nodded and handed him the baby. "She will not break, Tony. Be gentle with her of course, but you will not drop her."

Tony held his daughter as if she were made of glass and looked at her with terrified eyes. "Tell your mother not to leave us, small Mary. I could not bear to be left alone in this world without her."

The older Mary slipped to her mother's side. Katherine squeezed her daughter's hand and whispered, "What does Tony mean by using the royal address with you? I thought that he was one of those who followed the sway of your father's opinions."

"He still appears to be as such," Mary replied. "However, upon his arrival in London, my father intends to declare his marriage to the Lady Anne invalid, their daughter will be declared illegitimate, and I will be formally named Princess of Wales with Charles acquiring the title of Prince of Wales."

Katherine gasped. "How can he declare you legitimate?"

"He has found a way to declare that your marriage to him was valid without feeling a need to admit that he has been wrong about anything. Charles understands it all better than I do."

Her mother nodded. "So I will once again be called his lawful wife?"

"That is his intention. He wants to bring you back to Court as his wife and the anointed Queen of England."

"Ay," her mother sighed. "That man is fickle. I pity the Lady Anne and her daughter."

"Charles and I have decided to bring Elizabeth into our family as our ward as her mother will be banished from Court for life."

"And what will become of the Lady Anne?"

"Most likely, he will send her off to an old musty castle where no one will ever think of her again."

Katherine shook her head. "He should send her somewhere she can start a new life. She needs to get away from that viper, Thomas Boleyn, and her poor puppet of a brother."

Mary nodded. "Unfortunately, I do not know what His Majesty will do but I doubt that he will think of such concerns."

* * *

Back in Suffolk, Henry was thinking of no one but himself. He understood the absences of Mary, Katherine, and Tony, but he had lost part of his audience, which displeased him. From early childhood, Henry had craved an audience and being a member of the royal family had always afforded him one. The birth of Charles Brandon when Henry was nine had assured Henry of a captive audience for the next several years. Charles had fulfilled the role of dutiful audience and later loyal friend for many years. He had been a willing playmate for the young Princess Mary and kept her out of the way when her father was too busy for her. He had even continued it in large part after marrying Margaret and having children with her.

But then, three years earlier, he had married Mary. His second marriage had changed Charles. He had become devoted to something other than the King. And if he was honest with himself, Henry was jealous. He was jealous of the happy family that Henry had built first with Margaret and now with Mary. He envied Charles's calm confidence as he moved about his home and his life.

Nevertheless, he was determined to rebuild his life. And it was for that reason that he sat in Charles's study writing a document that declared the Oath of Succession as well as his marriage to Anne Boleyn to be invalid. He had spent the whole of the morning writing orders that were to be put into action upon his return to Whitehall that evening. Anne was to be dismissed from Court and sent to Kimbolten. Elizabeth would be sent to Suffolk Manor. His marriage to Katherine would be affirmed as valid. Charles and Mary would be formally recognized at Court as Prince and Princess of Wales in the beginning of September. Furthermore, Charles-Henry was to be formally named Duke of York and William would be named Earl of Wessex. Lands would be attached to these titles. But, per the request of their father, the boys would continue to reside with their parents and siblings so that they might have a normal upbringing that would prepare them for whatever lay ahead of them in life.

* * *

A few hours later, documents were taken to Court on the King's person so as to protect them. As Henry rode away, Charles felt a chill run down his spine. He knew that his life would never be the same. He had been born as Mister and now, at the age of thirty-five, he was being named Prince of Wales. He would one day be king. And when that occurred, the Tudor dynasty that Margaret Beaufort had worked so hard to put on the throne would end. The reign of the Brandon dynasty would begin. But as far as Charles was concerned, that day could wait a bit longer. He still preferred his quiet life with his family in the country.

* * *

Catherine Knivert passed a long and difficult night. The physicians bled her after midnight in the hopes that her fever would finally break. And Tony never left his wife's side. Katherine noticed that he was quiet as he knelt next to his wife's bed, clutching her hand.

Near dawn, she went very still and her breathing slowed. The physician told Tony to leave and then glared at him when he attempted to protest. So Tony went out into the hallway where Mary was sitting holding her namesake. "What do I do if she dies?" he asked.

Mary looked up at him. "I cannot tell you that. I have never lost a spouse."

He nodded. "But your husband has. Charles lost his first wife in childbirth. What did he do after she died?"

"He could tell you that better than I could. Also, Tony, you know my husband well. You saw him after my aunt's death. You know what he did."

Tony smiled grimly. "He was drunk out of his mind for three days. I do not fault him for that. He told me that his heart was broken. He felt his life was ending. I never understood what he meant until now. Mary, if she dies, what will I do? All that I will have in this world will be a baby, just a baby girl."

Mary adjusted the sleeping baby in her arms. "What about Anne?"

"What does the queen have to do with this?"

"No, your wife's lady-in-waiting," Mary replied. "She is with child and Cate believed it to be your child."

"It is," Tony said grimly. "But what I feel for Anne is not love. I love Cate. I can live without Anne. I could never live without Cate. Do you understand what I mean?"

Mary nodded. "I know exactly what you mean. However, Charles knows that I feel that way about him. Does Cate know what you feel towards her?"

"How could she ever question it?"

"Another woman is carrying your child and you ask me how your wife could ever question your feelings toward her?"

Tony looked at Mary skeptically. "Do you think she has been hurt?"

"Do you listen to Charles when he talks to you?"

"He told you about our conversations?"

"I told him to talk to you."

Tony sighed. "I do not understand your marriage."

"And I do not understand yours."

* * *

Catherine's fever broke while her husband bickered with the Princess of Wales. "She will live, but her recovery will be difficult," the physician told Tony.

"Will she be able to bear more children?" Tony asked, cradling Cate's hand in his own.

"I have no reason to think otherwise," was the response. "However, you ought to let her body recover strength before you try for a son."

Tony cringed internally as he realized that the physician could see through his hopes and dreams.

* * *

Charles had intended to depart for Hatfield the day after the king's departure. However, it began to rain a few hours after the king rode away; the rain continued for four more days. The roads turned to mud. Charles was forced to postpone his departure until a week after Mary's departure. As he departed at dawn on the last day of August, he sent a messenger to his wife telling her of the change in plans and of his concern over this change.

* * *

_I worry for Elizabeth. I know that Henry's plans have gone into action since I last saw him. She has now been declared illegitimate, and I worry about her treatment at the hands of those who professed to love her only a few days earlier. I will arrive at Hatfield this evening. God willing, Elizabeth and I will depart in the morning. Then, we will make our way to Knivert House to collect you. Your father expects us in London in a week and the children want you home for a few days before we depart._

_I miss you, carina. I cannot wait until we finish our business in London and are able to be alone together in Suffolk-just our family. _

_I love you, carina Maria. And I will see you shortly. _

_Eternally yours,_

_Charles_

Mary pressed that letter to her lips and smiled. She was glad that he was bringing Elizabeth to Norfolk so that they could all return to Suffolk together. She loved him and longed to see him again. And she wanted to see Elizabeth safely away from anyone who could hurt her.

She was happy to be with the Knivert family. She enjoyed their company. Cate was recovering and Tony had suddenly become devoted to his wife and daughter. He still spoke of future sons, but for the present he seemed content with his lovely little daughter. But as pleasant as all of this was, it was not her family. Cate, Tony, and baby Mary were not Charles, Eleanor, Frances, Hal, Charlie, Meg, and William. Her arms ached for her children. She missed the children's chattering and laughter. She longed for their messy kisses as she put them to bed. And she craved Charles with all of her being-his body, yes, but also his conversation, his smiles, his company, his help as she undressed before bed every night. The Knivert family was lovely and she was happy, but she was ready to go home to her family.

* * *

**September 1535**

* * *

Elizabeth was not quite two. It was, Charles realized as she slept in his lap, easy to forget this when she was dressed like a little adult, wearing miniatures of the silk gowns worn by her mother and the ladies of the Court. But with her thumb jammed in her mouth, she looked almost two. She was younger than Meg by three months; he could see that now. She slept as the carriage bumped over dirt roads, stirring occasionally. But mostly, she lay still with her head against his chest, her small thumb securely in her mouth. Since his arrival at Hatfield, she had clung fiercely to the doll he had given her. It was one of Eleanor's dolls that had been forgotten in favor of another toy.

Carrying her away from the chaos of Hatfield House had been difficult. It was the only home she had ever known. Even though people were running about and yelling, she had not wanted to leave Lady Bryan's skirts for the arms of her sister's husband. She knew Lady Bryan-even if her governess was no longer as kind to her as she had once been; Charles was a stranger.

He did not press the issue that evening but waited until the next morning to take her away from the security Lady Bryan's skirts. She had cried for "Mama" when Charles picked her up, but that stopped when her former governess threatened to slap her. At that moment, Charles gave her the doll. She seized it eagerly before jamming her thumb in her mouth. Then, she rested her head against his shoulder in surrender.

* * *

Mary was with Cate when Tony came to tell them that Charles had arrived with the Lady Elizabeth. "Your mother has already gone out to meet him as she was already near the courtyard when the carriage arrived."

Mary smiled as she stood. "I am going to meet them."

Then she left the room with a swish of her skirts.

Tony laughed. "I envy him. He has found himself the most devoted wife in England."

"And he has endeavored to deserve her every day of their marriage," Cate replied as she rocked the baby in her arms. "He demonstrates his love for her in small ways."

"I do not know how he does it," Tony mused. "How does he do that? How does one man remain utterly devoted to one woman?"

"Ask him, not me. I watched them while I lived with them, but I cannot tell you their secret. Perhaps Charles would tell you if you asked him."

Tony shrugged.

* * *

Charles handed Elizabeth to Katherine's waiting arms before he climbed out of the carriage. Then he kissed his mother-in-law. "It is delightful to see you again," he told her. "The children and I have missed having you and Maria about the house."

"And we have missed you, Carlos," she replied gently.

He was about to take Elizabeth back into his arms when a dark green blur came flying out of the house. Katherine laughed as Mary jumped into Charles's arms in the least ladylike way imaginable. "Mi cielo," he whispered gruffly.

"Elizabeth, what do you say we go inside and get you cleaned up from your journey?" Katherine asked.

The still-tired little girl leaned her head against Katherine's shoulder, comforted by the warm, maternal arms in which she found herself. Then Katherine carried her into the house.

After they left, Charles adjusted his wife in his arms and kissed her cheek. "May I put you down so I might kiss you properly?" he asked.

She smiled and pressed her head against his forehead. "I suppose so. But I would rather you not let go of me. I have missed you so much, Charles."

He set her down before pulling her close to himself. "And I you, Maria; after the past week, I hope to heaven that I do not have to leave you for a long time."

"I understand perfectly," she replied before he kissed her.

When they pulled apart, Mary blushed. "Charles, anyone could see us here. We ought to go inside."

Her husband smiled. "Naturally, after all, I would like to meet our new goddaughter. And you need to reacquaint yourself with your sister."

"How was your journey?" Mary asked as they walked arm-in-arm into the house.

"The roads were a bit muddy but manageable."

"And how did you find Elizabeth?"

Charles sighed. "It appears that Lady Bryan's tenderness towards her young charge depended upon the prestige and title of the child. When I told Elizabeth that we were leaving, she hid in her governess's skirts."

"Naturally, you were an utter stranger to her."

"Lady Bryan, however, quickly passed her off to me and I picked her up. Elizabeth began to cry for her mother and Lady Bryan threatened to slap her, which ended all dispute."

"The poor dear," Mary sighed.

"I gave her one of Eleanor's dolls and that seemed to endear me to her. After we entered the carriage, she climbed into my lap and slept there until our arrival here. I suspect that she was yet tired enough upon our arrival to be readily surrendered to your mother despite having never met her before in her life."

Mary squeezed her husband's hand. "I am grateful for the kindness that you have shown to her."

"She is your sister, my darling, regardless of the circumstances of her birth. And she is a sweet child. Also, I will never forget the night before her christening. She won a bit of my heart that night in an irrevocable manner," Charles replied with a wink.

His wife's only response was a blush that made him smile.

* * *

Half an hour later found Charles and Mary in Cate's private sitting room. Mary had Elizabeth and the doll settled on her lap while she talked to her mother and Cate. Tony was watching Charles hold baby Mary in silent awe that had not escaped the notice of the ladies. Charles Brandon had, as the father of six children, a way with infants. He knew, as Tony did not, how to hold a sleeping baby without waking her and how to soothe her when she fussed.

But Tony's greatest envy of Charles was the fact that Charles held the baby with one arm while his other arm was about Mary's shoulders. Tony had yet to approach his wife in such an intimate fashion since his conversation with Mary almost a week past. He was unsure of his standing in his wife's regard since the baby's birth, and he hoped to seek Charles's advice on the subject before his wiser and more experienced friend returned to Suffolk.

* * *

Fortunately for Tony, Charles also desired a private conversation although not out of a desire to be advised or to give advice, and so after dinner, he willingly followed Tony to the study. "How is fatherhood, my friend?" Charles asked after a sip of wine.

"She is an enchanting child even if she is not the son for which I had hoped. But I find that I do not have your natural ease with her. When I hold her, I am always afraid that I will drop her or harm her."

Charles smiled. "My ease with children is not natural, but rather it is the result of careful practice when I was much younger."

Tony furrowed his brow. "Your oldest child is only six years old."

"Eleanor is actually seven now. But I speak not of her but of my wife. Long before she was my wife, I learned how to hold a baby because Henry would bring his daughter to Privy Council meetings and then want someone else to hold her while he conducted business. At first, I was not comfortable holding her but no one else would hold her. So I grew accustomed to it. I learned how she liked to be held and what funny faces she liked to see. Then, twelve years later, I became a father for the first time, and I remembered what Mary had liked. As it happened, Eleanor also liked the same things."

"So I just try and see what happens?" asked a skeptical Tony.

"In my experience, that is how much of life goes."

"Does it go that way with wives as well?"

Charles laughed. "Marriage is not magic, Tony. If you want to heal your breach of Cate's trust, you have work for it. You have to earn her trust and love."

"You and Mary make it look so easy. After all, you have three children by her. She allows you to put your arm around her shoulders in company. You whisper together."

"And I treat her with dignity and respect, Tony. That is where I began. Everything else came after that."

"But how do I do that?"

"Talk to her, you fool," Charles replied before swallowing the last of the wine in his cup.

* * *

"Will they be all right?" Mary asked Charles as they left Knivert House in the morning.

"I hope so. Cate has a good head on her shoulders, and if Tony does not take care of things, he knows that I will take care of him," her husband replied with a smile.

She adjusted Elizabeth in her lap and looked at the little girl. "Now, Elizabeth, what is your doll's name?"

"Mama," was the reply as Elizabeth clutched the doll tightly.

"You want to call the doll Mama?" Charles asked.

"No," the little girl said.

"Do you want your mother?" he tried.

"No," she replied.

"Then what do you want, dear girl?"

"Be mama," Elizabeth said, pressing her head against Mary's breast.

Mary held the little girl closer to herself and wondered what exactly Lady Bryan had told Elizabeth about Anne's fate.

* * *

A/N: Please review!


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: I don't own what you recognize. And I really love and appreciate the reviews.

* * *

**September 1535**

* * *

If Mary or Charles had any fears about bringing Elizabeth into their household, they were wiped away the minute that Eleanor met Elizabeth. Mary was in her sitting with Elizabeth in her lap when Charles brought Eleanor in. Eleanor immediately greeted Elizabeth with, "Why, Papa gave you Molly! She was my favorite doll when I was small. I hope you like her as much as I did."

Elizabeth smiled shyly and said, "Pretty Molly." Then she hugged the doll to herself.

Mary smiled. "Eleanor, this is my sister, Elizabeth. She will be living with us now."

"But Grandma is too old to have children," Eleanor said, clearly confused.

"Elizabeth is not my mother's daughter, dear. She is only my father's daughter; she has a different mother."

"That is strange."

Charles laughed. "Some people are strange, dear girl. But now Elizabeth will live with us and be a part of our family."

"Where will she sleep?"

"For now, she will stay with your mother and myself, but eventually, she will probably share Meg's room."

Eleanor nodded. "What does she like to do?"

"Play," Elizabeth replied softly. "I like play."

"I like to play too. And so do my brothers and sisters. And now, you will have many people who will play with you." Eleanor was practically jumping out of her skin at the idea of having another playmate to boss around as well as having her parents home again.

Elizabeth smiled and leaned comfortably against Mary.

* * *

After dinner, Mary told Charles she wished to speak to him privately. So they left the children in Bessie's capable hands and betook themselves to the gardens for a leisurely twilight stroll. "So, my darling, why did you want me alone?" her husband asked.

She smiled. "I need to tell you something quite personal and important."

"Your father has said that to me a few times recently," he teased.

"I think you will find my news quite different from his."

"You do not wish to speak to me of the succession of the English throne?"

"Not directly," Mary replied.

Charles raised an eyebrow. "Pray, do continue. I am intrigued."

"I am with child."

"How long have you known this?"

"I have had my suspicions for a while now, but they were confirmed yesterday morning when the child quickened."

"When will the child be born?"

"Late January, most likely, or perhaps early February," she replied softly. "Are you pleased?"

"Excessively," he told her with a smile. "But could you please try to have a girl this time?"

"Charles, there are currently four girls under the age of ten in our house and you want me to give birth to another girl?"

He shrugged. "Little girls do not want to wrestle with their fathers, and I currently have three little boys who want to wrestle with me. I do not enjoy being kicked, punched, and stepped on all the time. I would also like to cuddle and snuggle with little girls once in a while. Eleanor is not as interested in that as she once was, and even Frances is coming to think of herself as too old to sit on my lap."

"You can still snuggle with Meg, and I think Elizabeth has taken a liking to you," his wife replied with a subtle wink. "And I am always willing to sit in your lap."

"While all of this is true, I would not mind another daughter."

"My father would likely prefer that we had another son."

Charles laughed. "And then he would name the lad the Duke of Cornwall or Earl of Devonshire or something like that."

Mary smiled and leaned her head against her husband's shoulder. "Does it bother you that he has bestowed lands and titles on Charlie and William?"

"No, but I wish that he would be a more involved grandparent."

"I know, darling. But you can console yourself in knowing that our children have an involved grandmother and two involved parents. They have a much happier childhood than I did with only one involved parent."

Charles nodded. "At least you had a loyal friend until you were sent to Wales and he married your aunt."

Mary laughed. "And I am most grateful to him for his friendship and his loyalty. However, I have a more serious question I should like to ask you."

"I hope to give you the answer you seek."

"Do you know what Lady Bryan told Elizabeth with regards to Anne's fate?"

"Are you referring to Elizabeth's request that you be her mother?"

Mary nodded solemnly. "It seems as though she seems to think her mother is gone."

"That is what she was told. From what I gathered, she was told by someone, although I know not whom, that her mother had left her forever."

"Who would tell a child of less than two years such a story? Anne did not leave her daughter willingly."

Charles sighed. "I would suspect that the majority of the people who saw to Elizabeth's care only did so because she was the princess. But once she was merely a royal bastard, there was no more reason to be kind to her. Supposedly, one of her maids shook her over some minor thing shortly before my arrival two days ago."

"She is a child. She is innocent in all of this. Why do people have to be cruel to her?"

"Because she is a child, it is an easy way to take out their emotions," Charles replied.

Mary sighed and put a hand on her waist. "Promise me that no one will ever harm our children like that."

He put his hands firmly on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. "I promise you this. If anyone ever wants to harm you, any of our children, or Elizabeth, they will have to go over my dead body first."

His wife leaned her head against his chest. "Charles, whatever you do or say, I do not want my father to know about this baby yet."

"You have my word," he replied, putting his arms around her. "But why do you want secrecy if you have already felt the child quicken?"

"I do not want to feel pressured about this child. If we tell him, he will ramble about his hopes for more sons and the importance of having more sons because children die like his brother and my older brothers."

Charles pulled his wife to himself and pressed his lips to her forehead. "Maria, we will be fine. We have given England two princes, and God willing, more will follow. And I will not allow your father to pester you. If that means that this baby stays a secret when we are in London for the next week, then so be it. I like the idea of having this secret just between you and me."

Mary smiled. "I know how it hurt my mother to lose child after child. And as my parents' only surviving child, I feel a responsibility to fulfill their dreams."

"I watched your parents lose those children, and I know that it hurt them, especially your mother. And I would give the world to protect you from that pain, but I know that I cannot control life and death. All we can do is live every day and love each one of our children with all that we are." As he spoke, one hand slid to her softly swelling belly. "But I will do everything in my power to keep you and our children and our country safe."

She kissed his stubbly cheek. "Just promise me one thing, Charles Brandon."

"Anything," he replied.

"If this child is a boy, we name him John after Cardinal Fisher."

He nodded. "If we have a girl, we name her Katherine."

Mary smiled. "We have an accord."

* * *

Upon their return to the house, Charles and Mary found Elizabeth playing with Eleanor, Frances, Meg, and a variety of dolls. The boys were attempting to wrestle with each other, which Charles quickly put to an end by grabbing William and tickling him. His brothers naturally then wanted to join in the fun and receive special attention from Papa.

The girls, on the other hand, flocked to their mother who had been absent from the house for over a week and had been much missed. Until he departed to collect Elizabeth, Charles had found himself with six children in his bed every night. Charles had initially decided to keep William in the room with him in case the little boy woke up distressed and needed comfort during the night. The other children had gradually trickled into his room to make sure that he was not lonely and did not "miss Mama too much," as Frances explained it while scrambling over his legs one night. But he suspected that his daughters had missed their mother almost as much as he had.

"Bess needs a doll," Meg pronounced as she climbed into her mother's lap, confirming Charles's suspicions that Mary had been much missed.

"Papa gave her one of Eleanor's," Frances offered. "And Ellie will let her keep it."

"But she needs a new doll that is all hers." Meg was a talkative child with a loving disposition. She had a hug, a kiss, and a smile for everyone. At breakfast one morning during Mary's absence, she had flung her arms wide open, pronounced her love for everyone, and smacked her father in the chest with a spoon filled with porridge.

"She can have my doll. I care not," Eleanor replied contentedly. "I want to ride a horse like Papa."

"Talk to your father about that," Mary replied.

Charles had taught Eleanor to ride but she did not practice much. Now, she was suddenly interested in it, perhaps because she saw it as an opportunity to spend time alone with her father.

"Papa says he taught me, but I can only ride like a lady."

Mary smiled. "Papa is the head of the family and you need to obey him."

Eleanor moaned. "I want to be an adult so you have to obey me."

Mary shot a look at her husband who raised his eyebrows and winked at her. She blushed, which only served to make him laugh. Charles was a charming man, sometimes too charming in Mary's opinion. She found it hard to argue with him when he quirked his eyebrows or flashed his cheeky grin at her.

Charles, however, took that moment to be serious with his oldest daughter. "Someday, you will be an adult, Eleanor, but your mother and I will always be older than you and thusly you will have to obey us always."

Eleanor frowned and crossed her arms over her chest, as she had seen her father do when he was angry. "But I want to tell you what do."

"Eleanor, my dear girl, you will have your own children and you can tell them what to do. But it is not permitted that you tell your parents what to do."

The little girl sighed, but her father's face showed no sign of bending. So she returned to playing and her father returned to tickling his sons.

* * *

As expected, Bess wanted to sleep with Charles and Mary. She had, Mary realized, always had a servant in her room and was probably afraid of being alone at night-or alone with only two-year-old Meg. Mary agreed to stay with her until she fell asleep, intending to go downstairs to Charles in his study after Bess and William were asleep. However, the children's soft breathing lulled her tired body to sleep before she realized it.

When Charles came looking for his wife a bit later, he found her still fully dressed but sound asleep in their bed. He smiled and then began trying to figure out how to get her out of her dress without waking her. However, as he began to unlace the front of her dress, his fingers paused on her belly and the baby stirred against his hand. As his smile broadened, his wife's eyes fluttered open. "Was I asleep?" she asked blearily.

He nodded. "I was trying to get you out of your dress without waking you."

"Impossible, Charles," Mary replied as she slowly sat up.

"I know," he replied softly. "But I wanted to try."

"But then you felt the babe stir within me."

Charles sat down next to his wife and smiled. "I think I am jealous of you because you feel the babe within you all the time."

"Sometimes, they keep me from sleeping at night. William, for example, rarely let me sleep through the night. But that was partially because I was as large as a house."

"You were not that large."

Mary looked at their chubby but long-limbed son "He is a large child."

Charles gently stroked his son's head of dark curls. "I think I probably looked like that as a young child-chubby but tall. And we know your father did."

"You know that. I did not know my father as a child."

"He was a selfish, demanding child who always had to get his own way. He has not changed much since then."

Mary laughed. "My father is a unique individual but enough about him. I am exhausted, so you will help me take my dress off and I will go to sleep."

Charles kissed his wife's forehead before climbing off the bed. "Naturally, Your Highness, it would be my greatest honor."

"So I am Your Highness now?"

"You are the Princess of Wales, my love."

"And you, my dear, are the Prince of Wales. So I could also call you Your Highness as well."

"Then I shall call you Mary if you call me Charles."

Mary smiled. "I can live quite happily with that arrangement, darling Charles."

* * *

Three days later, Charles and Mary left for Court with Charlie, Meg, and William. Katherine would be meeting them there. The other children stayed in Suffolk in Bessie's care. Henry had only wanted his grandchildren at Court when he formally recognized their parents as the Prince and Princess of Wales. Mary had not wanted to bring the children at all, but her father had insisted. And even if she was his daughter, she could not refuse the king.

So they found themselves in London with three young children and Maggie. "I think that we should try to avoid traveling with children," Mary remarked upon their arrival at Whitehall.

Meg and William were both fussing while Charlie was sleeping. As Charles settled Charlie on the bed in their private rooms, he sighed and glared at the room around him as if everything in his line of sight offended him. "I will never do this again. It is simply too much work solely to make your father happy. Let him try to carry a sleeping child and a crying child at the same time."

"The servants helped us," his wife reminded him.

"I know. But I prefer to be the father and take care of these sorts of things myself. I do not like needing to depend upon servants to care for my children when at home I am perfectly capable of doing so myself."

Mary smiled. She was lying on the bed snuggling with William and Meg, trying to calm them down. "I know, dear. But now you are a part of the royal family and royals are not allowed to be like ordinary people. You have lived at Court long enough that you should know that."

"But I was an ordinary person until a few weeks ago."

"You have not been an ordinary person for a very long time," his wife replied. "In fact, I am not entirely sure that you have ever been ordinary."

"You are so kind."

"I mean it, Charles. You are not an ordinary man."

Just then, a knock came at the door, and a moment later, Katherine came into the room. Her entrance proved the ancient, universal truth that grandmothers can calm their fussy grandchildren merely with their presence. Meg scrambled across the bed to her grandmother with a happy smile on her face.

Mary shook her head. "She fusses like a banshee until you walk in her. Then, suddenly, she is as happy as can be."

"That, my dear Maria, is the power of a grandmother," Katherine said as she picked up her granddaughter. "Unfortunately, we cannot simply stay here and exchange pleasantries. Your father has summoned us to his private chambers."

Charles groaned. "I was just starting to calm down."

"My husband does not like traveling with children," Mary told her mother.

Katherine nodded. "I am not surprised. Your husband does not like fuss or disorder."

"I live in disorder," Charles retorted. "I have six children."

"There is a difference between the disorder caused by six children in one house and the disorder caused by traveling with them. Now, we really ought to be going. We do not want to keep Henry waiting. He will not be pleased."

"Does he want us to bring the children?"

Her mother nodded. "He wants to speak to us as a family."

"He wants to speak to us," Charles repeated. "He does not want to speak with us."

"You are being extremely pessimistic today, my dear," Mary remarked.

He shrugged. "Your father brings out the worst in me."

"Whatever you do, do not let him know that," Katherine advised. "Be pleasant."

Charles smiled. "I will be charming and delightful. No one will find fault with me."

Mary kissed her husband's cheek before running her fingers over it. "I think you will be rewarded suitably when we return to Suffolk."

* * *

Henry was looking over some papers when a knock came at the door. "Come!" he called.

A footman stepped inside. "Your Majesty, the Queen and the Prince and Princess of Wales are here."

"Show them in."

A moment later, footsteps entered the room. Henry looked up and gasped. Katherine stood before him with Mary and Charles. But it was Katherine who captured his attention. This was not the woman he had sent away from Court three years earlier. She did not look old. Yes, there were silver strands in her black hair, but everything else was younger, lighter, and freer. Her drove gray dress and simple braided stood in stark contrast to Anne's fancier hair and extravagant styles.

"Henry," she said simply. "It is good to see you again."

"Katherine," he replied, taking her hands in his. "I have missed you so. It gives me great pleasure to have you home again."

"I am here for the good of the country and of our family."

He nodded slowly, seeing a hard look in her blue eyes. "Of course, I understand." He did not understand, but he could not admit weakness. Kings could not be weak.

Then he saw Mary and Charles with their children. "Please, sit down. We have much to discuss. We have not been together as a family in many years."

"And we are still missing our three older children," Charles added as he sat down with Meg in his lap.

"I would like you to bring them the next time you come to Court. I would have invited them this time, but I want Charles-Henry and William to be the center of attention this time."

Mary smiled. "Do not forget about little Margaret while you are celebrating Charles-Henry and William. She is just as much a princess as they are princes."

"Of course she is," Henry said with a smile.

"I have learned that it is unwise to simply write princess off merely because they are women," Charles commented. "Women can give birth to sons. In fact, without women, men would never have children at all. Adam was not complete until Eve was created"

Henry nodded and smiled. "That is true, but England needs a king more than it needs a queen."

"And now it will have both," Katherine said. "First, it will have you and me, and someday, it will have Mary and Charles. And I have great faith in their ability to continue to lead this country according to the will of God."

* * *

Two men-only nine year apart in age-both were husbands, both were fathers. But sitting in Katherine's sitting room that evening, Mary saw how different her husband and her father were. While Henry was trying to win his way back into Katherine's heart and bed, Charles had will and Meg on his lap. Her father's face was desperate and longing. Charles was amiable and content.

Katherine had been restored to her former chambers, but she was not going to simply fall back into the role of Henry's loving and devoted wife and queen. She would be the queen, but her relationship with Henry would be celibate until she could love him and trust him as a wife ought to love and trust her husband. Henry's manner towards her since this pronouncement had been starling. He had become like a young besotted lover. He watched her, thinking he was being subtle when he was being anything but.

Like Tony only a few days earlier, Henry watched the tender intimacy between Charles and Mary with a marked jealousy.

"How long do you plan to stay at Court, Mother?" Mary asked.

"Permanently," Katherine replied. "This nation needs a queen."

"And the English Court is nothing without ladies," Henry added with a smile. "The Court without a queen is like the sky without a sun. It is cold, dark, lonely, and empty. Life is miserable without women. Charles, surely you know what I mean? You were a widower before you married Mary. You know how empty and vacant a man's life is when he has no wife."

Charles smiled as he bounced Meg on his lap. "I often felt empty and vacant during the year between Margaret's death and my marriage to Mary. However, my life was not empty and vacant. I still had three darling children who gave me joy and hope in my darkest hours. And anyway, when have you ever struggled to find a woman to fill the empty space in your bed?"

"There is a difference between filling the empty space in your bed and the empty space in your heart, Charles."

"With all due respect, Your Majesty, I have known that for many years now. Nevertheless, I find both my heart and my bed quite full these days," Charles said as he squeezed his wife's knee.

Mary smiled shyly at her husband. The intimacy of the act in her father's presence startled her. She knew that she was an adult and that she had been married for three years. But she was still nervous to be openly intimate with her husband in the presence of her father, the king of England.

Henry, on the other hand, looked at the intimacy his daughter had with her husband and then at his own wife, who sat a bit away from him and had Charlie snuggled in her lap. The two-year-old boy had a thick head of dark brown hair, warm blue eyes that he had clearly inherited from his father, and a cheerful but stubborn temperament that had also clearly come from Charles Brandon.

"I think that you will learn that women also suffer the miseries of an empty bed and an empty heart," Katherine said as she adjusted Charlie in her lap.

Henry smiled at his wife. "I am certain that I have hurt you, Katherine. But you need not suffer those miseries any longer. I am here and I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy and protecting you from miseries."

"But you have been the cause of so many miseries and sufferings in my life, Henry. It is not so simple that you can simply say that you love me and suddenly everything will be better. You have to show me."

"You are here, Katherine. Anne is not. Mary is the Princess of Wales. What more do you need?"

Katherine sighed. "An apology would be a nice good place to start. I would like to see you admit that you have done wrong and hurt Charles, Mary, and me."

"I am the King of England. I cannot simply admit to being wrong the way common people can."

"I am not asking you to publicly announce to the Court that you have wronged us. I know that your position and your pride will not allow that. But I would appreciate it if you told your daughter that you were ashamed of the things that you have called her and let other people call her over the past few years."

"She is married to Charles. They have three children. They are happy. What more do you want?"

"I would like to know that you do not think that I am illegitimate or a bastard or worthless because I am only a girl," Mary said, looking not at her father but at her husband as if Charles could give her strength by his mere presence.

"You are my Mary. You gave me Charles-Henry to be my heir. What more could you want?"

"To know that I am loved and that I have value to you beyond my ability to bring Charles's sons into the world," Mary replied firmly.

"A woman's greatest duty and purpose in this world is to be a wife and bring sons into the world," Henry protested.

"I will not argue with that statement," his daughter replied firmly. "However, I think that my purpose lies not only in breeding sons but being Charles's loving wife and the devoted mother of both sons and daughters."

"But do you not see, Mary, that sons are more important?"

"Then why is it that Mary and I will take the throne of England through her lineage and not mine?"

Henry stopped and looked at Charles. "What are you trying to say?"

"I was not born into the royal family, but one day I will most likely be the king of this country. That will not happen through my own doing or my own lineage. It comes through my wife. You dismiss her as someone whose highest purpose is to give birth to healthy sons. But you have missed out on Mary's capacity to be a loving wife and mother. She makes sacrifices for other people. She willingly brought Elizabeth into our home when you cast her aside. She is my dearest friend in this world. She is so much more than the walking womb that you dismiss her as."

Henry sighed. "Charles, even you must know that women cannot do everything that men can do."

"I am not saying that they can," Charles protested. "But I do believe that they can do more than that for which you give them credit."

Katherine watched the heated exchanged hesitantly. As the daughter of Isabella of Spain and as a woman who had once led the English army in battle, she knew that women could do more than bear children. But she also knew that Mary, who had never led an army into battle and was only nineteen years old, had done something that she had failed to do. Mary had given England two strong, healthy male heirs to the throne.

And while her husband and father argued, Mary was trying to calm one of those two strong, healthy male heirs down. William was tired and this inevitably led to a fussy little boy. So while his father and grandfather discussed the role of women in the English Court, William whimpered and fussed. As words such as "arrogant" and "pig-headed" were bandied about, Mary paced the floor of her mother's sitting room in an effort to sooth a sleeping boy.

As Henry made a remark about how members of the royal family ought to let governesses raise their children so that the parents could see to more important matters, Charles glanced as his children. Meg, who never liked loud noises unless she was the one making them, had her fingers jammed in her ears. Charlie was sucking his thumb and pulling on his ear, his usual way of self-comforting. And William was giving his mother a piece of his mind.

So Charles raised his hand and smiled. "Your Majesty, you raise some interesting points. However, I need to help my wife settle our children down for the night. So, if I could have Charlie back-and Meg sweetheart, take your fingers out of your ears-we will be leaving now."

Katherine stood and handed Charlie to his father who settled the little boy on his free hip. She patted his shoulder and smiled. "Put them to bed, Charles, and then get some rest yourself. It has been a long day for all of us."

* * *

After Mary and Charles left, Henry and Katherine were alone. She smiled at him and picked up a little dress from the basket by her feet.

"What is it?" he asked.

"A dress for Frances," she replied softly.

"Which one is Frances?" Henry asked

His wife smiled as she sewed the blue fabric. "Their second oldest girl, she is five."

"Is she the one who looks like Margaret?"

"No, that is Eleanor. Frances has some elements of Charles in her, but in many ways, she reminds me of your father."

Henry paused and looked at his wife. "I forget that those children are my sister's children. I ought to do something for them. Why have I never done anything for them?"

"You were angry when Charles married Margaret without your permission and you said their children would never have anything from you but Charles's dukedom."

Henry poured a goblet of wine. "I forgot about that. It all seems so long ago. Do you want some wine?"

"Only a small bit," she replied softly. "Wine makes me tired in my old age."

"You are not old, Catalina."

"I will be fifty in December, Henry," she replied firmly. "I am old."

"That is not so old. I am forty-four. There are only six years of difference between us."

"I am a withered old woman. I am not what you want."

He knelt in front of her. "You are my wife and that is what I want."

"You do not listen to me, Henry. I do not want to be merely flattered and seduced. I want to be shown that I am valued."

"You are valued, Katherine," he said, frustration edging into his voice.

She sighed. "Words are merely hot air. And I am tired and would like to go to bed. We can discuss this more later. I will be here for a while. You do not have to make things better all in one night."

Henry kissed her cheek "Good night, my dear. I will see you in the morning."

She smiled. "Good night, Henry."

* * *

Alone with Henry the next afternoon, Charles was conflicted as he listened to his father-in-law talk. "Katherine is lovely. But she is not so young as she once was. Her waist has thickened and her step has slowed. Perhaps you had the right idea when you married a younger woman."

"You forget that an older woman had to die before I married a younger woman. And if you had not married Katherine, I could not have married Mary."

Henry smiled. "I would not want to lose Katherine. She is beyond price."

"But she is not as young as she used to be or as young as Anne is."

"She is my wife and I must be content with what I have."

Charles sighed. "She may not be as young as she once was but she is an incredible woman. You should talk to her and learn about what she does with her life. She does not just sit in her rooms and sew shirts for you all day."

"And how do you know this?"

"Because she has lived in my house for the past two years, Henry," Charles replied firmly. "For two years, I have seen that woman nearly every single day. I could tell you what songs she hums under her breath and what makes her laugh. I know that she has tired more easily over the past few months. Spend time with her. You might learn something about her. And you might win her heart back."

"When did you become the expert on love?" Henry asked. "I was once considered the expert in that area."

"I do not claim to be an expert. I only know what makes my wife happy."

* * *

A/N: Please review!


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: I don't own what you recognize. But I do love my reviewers; y'all are wonderful.

* * *

**September 1535**

* * *

"Maybe this is a ridiculous question," Mary told Charles that evening before their formal presentation to the Court. "But where exactly are Thomas and George Boleyn? We know that Anne is at Kimbolten and Elizabeth is at Suffolk Manor. But where are the Boleyn men?"

Charles shrugged. "Your father sent them back to Hever."

"And he has no concerns that they might try something else? Thomas Boleyn worked for years to get as close to the throne as he could. Does the king honestly believe that Boleyn will just give up now?"

"Darling, your father does not appear to fully understand how grasping the Boleyns are."

"Then it is entirely possible that he is a fool," Mary spat.

Charles laughed. "You best not say such things in front of your father. He would take offense and possibly take off your head."

"Do not worry, my dear. I would never say such things in front of anyone but you."

Mary smiled and ran a hand over her husband's cheek. "Please pretend to be your charming self this evening."

"I will be a veritable saint," he replied. "And I will even speak to the people whom I dislike."

"You will be repaid suitably for your pains."

Charles laughed and kissed his wife. "Your love and our children are all that payment that I need. Now, let us collect the children and go make our appearances, darling."

* * *

It was September 7, a day that Mary noted as Elizabeth's second birthday. But the English Court took no notice of it. All attention was on the newly-restored Queen Katherine and the Prince and Princess of Wales with their children. "Young princes and princesses," Charles overheard someone say. "It is all so exciting."

Charlie was pulling on his own ear while silently watching everything that happened around him. There was something about Charlie that always enchanted Charles. His son was not fazed by all of the people around him. He just sat quietly on his chair between his mother and his grandfather while holding onto his ear.

Henry, too, was enthralled by Charlie. But unlike Charles who was merely enchanted by his son's quirks, Henry was captured by the boy's pure existence. A small boy with bright blue eyes and brown curls who liked to pull on his ears had transfixed the king. Throughout the day, he kept sneaking glances at the little boy who had, purely by his existence, proved the legitimacy of Katherine and her descendents. From the look on Henry's face, it was though he had seen the toddling Christ-child come down from heaven and into his life as his own personal Messiah.

* * *

At the feast that night, people kept coming to talk to Charles and Mary. They wanted to welcome them back to Court-and were always shocked to hear that the Brandon family would not be moving to Court on a permanent basis "because we want the children to have as much of a normal life as possible," Charles told Sir Henry Norris.

"But you do not have to bring them with you, Your Highness. You could leave them in Suffolk with governesses while you and Her Highness, the Princess of Wales, come to Court."

"I would rather not do that. Unlike many men at Court, I quite enjoy being at home with my family."

Sir Henry smiled. "I can understand that, Your Highness. I, however, find that staying in the king's good graces is a precarious act, and it is easier to remain in them when one is at Court."

Charles smiled. "In truth, you are right. However, as a member of the royal family, I have a bit more security in my decisions."

"That is only because you married the Princess of Wales and had children with her."

"I did not marry her because she was a princess, Sir Henry."

Sir Henry nodded. "Of course, I did not mean to imply that you did. I merely meant that as a member of the king's family, you have more liberty than people such as myself do."

"Which is what I had already said," Charles said simply.

"Your Highness has been quite blessed in your choice of wife."

Charles looked at Mary who was talking with Sir John Seymour and a few members of his family. He smiled. "Her Highness is an enchanting young woman in every way imaginable."

"The fact that she has given you two sons must increase your love for her."

Before Charles could formulate a response to that statement, his wife was standing next to him with a warm smile. Mary wore a dark red dress that pleased her father because it was Tudor red and pleased her husband because red suited her.

"Your Highness," Sir Henry said with a bow. "It is a pleasure to have you back at Court."

Mary smiled. "I am glad to be here. However, I need to claim my husband. Sir Thomas More wishes to speak with him."

"Of course, do not let me stand in your way." Another bow accompanied that statement and then Mary and Charles departed.

* * *

"More wishes to speak with me?" Charles asked as he took his wife's arm.

"And Chapuys and Seymour," Mary replied as they walked. "But they all wish to speak with you privately."

"Of what do they wish to speak?"

"With More, I believe it is something personal."

"That makes sense as he is Charlie and Meg's godfather."

Mary nodded. "Chapuys said something about Imperial business, but I think that he merely wants to speak with you about finding time for a more private meeting."

Charles smiled. "That would be most welcome."

"And lastly, I believe that Seymour wishes to ensure you of his family's loyalty to our family."

"Acceptable, but not necessary," Charles replied. "We are members of the royal family. There is no need to pledge loyalty to us. It is no different from loyalty to the king."

Mary smiled. "Not everyone agrees with that statement. I am not even sure that your previous conversation partner believes that."

"I felt as though he was drooling over me the way that William does when he is hungry."

"Charles, wait to say such things until we are in private so that I might laugh without attracting attention," Mary whispered as she pressed her free hand over her smile.

Her husband smiled. "But I have other things that I wish to say when we are alone."

"I will be at your disposal after I lull the children to sleep, but right now, Sir Thomas is waiting for us."

* * *

Sir Thomas awaited the Brandons in a quiet alcove. He smiled and bowed when they entered, which made Charles sigh and raise his eyes heavenward. "Please do not. You know us, Thomas. You do not have to bow to us."

"You are the Prince and Princess of Wales, and we are at Court. Decorum dictates that I bow to you."

Mary smiled. "You bow to us here, but we would like to see you and your dear wife at our home in Suffolk very soon. Bowing will not be at all necessary there."

Sir Thomas smiled. "We would be delighted to be your guests. Let us know when you would like us to come and we will be there."

"Is there anything about which you need to speak with us immediately?" Charles asked. "As much as we would love to spend time with you, Ambassador Chapuys and Sir John Seymour are both also waiting for me."

"I can wait until we are away from Court. I would, however, be willing to borrow your wife for a few moments if you do not mind."

Mary smiled. "I am at my husband's disposal."

"I am loath to let her out of my sight," Charles said, kissing his wife's hand. "And I would like to have her company when I speak with the Seymours. However, if she would prefer to speak with you, I can live without her for a few moments."

"Ought we tell him our news?"

"The news we are not telling the king?" Charles asked.

His wife nodded. "I think that Sir Thomas is a naturally discreet man and he could handle knowing our secret."

Charles turned to Sir Thomas. "Mary is with child."

Thomas smiled. "May God's blessings be with your family; this is truly wonderful news."

Mary smiled calmly while her husband nearly beamed and said, "We are more than thrilled."

"I can quite imagine, and I look forward to meeting the newest addition to your family."

"He or she will be here in late January or early February," Mary said. "We hope to have you as our guest soon after the birth so that you can meet the new prince or princess."

"It would be my honor."

"I will go speak with the Seymours now," Charles said. "I'll be back to collect my dear Maria shortly."

* * *

Charles found the Seymours conversing with Queen Katherine who was holding William. "The Court has needed you, Queen Katherine," Sir John Seymour remarked. "We have missed your maternal guidance and generosity."

Katherine smiled. "It is a pleasure to be home again. And it is also a pleasure to have my daughter and her family here for a short while."

"We are also glad of course to have Princess Mary and Princes Charles here with their children," Sir John continued. "It is quite encouraging to young life at Court again."

Charles smiled warmly and took his son from the queen. "We are glad to be here at the king's good pleasure."

"The children are enchanting," Lady Jane remarked sweetly.

Charles adjusted William on his lap and smiled warmly. "Thank you. My wife and I tend to think that they are delightful, but as their parents, we may be biased."

Jane smiled. "You might be biased as their father, but I must agree with you. They have such sweet dispositions. They are practically angels."

Charles laughed. "They are on their best behavior while we are at Court. They tend to be a bit more vivacious when they are at home with their three older children."

"Sibling rivalries can be quite intense," Edward Seymour remarked smoothly.

As Charles nodded, he observed that he did not like something in Edward's air. It reminded him of Thomas Boleyn in an odd way. But he gave no indication of his feelings. Instead, he remarked calmly, "It is not so much an issue of rivalry in our family, but rather my children seem to think that no day is complete without at least two or three minor disagreements. I think that it is the way of all young children in large families."

Sir John smiled. "I would suspect that this one does not give you much trouble."

"William is a sweet and good child, but he is also young, which prevents him from some of his older siblings' misbehavior. But that is enough about my children. You wanted to speak with me?"

"Yes, I wished to assure you that my family is loyal to the Princess of Wales and yourself. The Boleyn family means nothing to us. The Brandon family is everything. We are putting our whole confidence in you."

"Sir John, I am merely the Prince of Wales. Your loyalty ought to belong to the King of England before it belongs to me."

"Yes, yes, of course," the older man replied. "However, I want you to know that our family does not and will not support the Boleyns in any attempt they may make to overthrow the current line of succession."

Charles smiled. "I thank you for your kind words and your support. However, I hope that you will never need to actively demonstrate it. Now, if you will excuse me, I must speak with the Imperial Ambassador."

"Of course, we understand perfectly," Sir John replied with a bow. "It was a pleasure speaking with you and meeting little Prince William."

"He is a dear and we hope to see him again," Lady Jane added.

Edward just nodded and bowed as Charles and Katherine walked away with little William.

* * *

"Where are Meg and Charlie?" Charles asked as they walked.

"Just after you left her, Maggie took them to Mary. I think that they are a bit tired," Katherine replied.

"Quite understandable, perhaps I ought to ask Chapuys if we can speak tomorrow and I will simply return to my rooms."

His mother-in-law smiled. "I think that your children would appreciate that."

"As would my wife, I think."

"Make your excuses to the king, and then do your duty to your family."

Charles nodded. "First, I must find my wife."

Mary was still with Sir Thomas in the alcove although they had been joined by Chapuys as well as Meg and Charlie. Charlie was in his godfather's arms while the Imperial Ambassador held Meg. "Papa came back!" Charlie pronounced upon seeing his father.

Charles laughed. "I always return."

"Mama, want Mama," William said, stretching his arms out to his mother.

Mary took her youngest son in her arms and kissed his forehead. "Are you tired, William?"

He responded by jamming his thumb in his mouth and pressing his head against his mother's shoulder. Charles smiled. "Eustace, my friend, I would love to speak with you, but I think that right now being a father comes before being a prince. Could we possibly find a time to speak tomorrow morning?"

Chapuys smiled. "Of course we can. I can meet you after breakfast if you like."

"That would be perfect."

* * *

After convincing the king to allow them to leave, Charles and Mary returned to their quarters. "I like people like Chapuys, but I want to go home," Charles told Mary as he carried Meg and Charlie.

"I miss Eleanor, Frances, Hal, and Elizabeth," his wife replied as she opened the door of their rooms.

He smiled as he handed Meg to Maggie. "When do you want to leave?"

"We need to be here for at least three more days to make my father happy," Mary said. "So, can we leave in four days?"

"That would mean we leave on the eleventh?"

She shrugged. "I suppose so. I was not thinking of dates. I was merely thinking that you want to leave."

Charles laughed as he helped Charlie change into his nightshirt. "You are a very considerate wife."

"I try. After all, I believe I want to return home as much as you do."

"Four more days, Mary, and then we can go back to our quiet peaceful life."

Mary smiled and put a hand on her belly. "I would prefer to remain in Suffolk and our quiet peaceful life for the duration of this pregnancy."

"Naturally," Charles replied as he adjusted the sheets around Charlie and Meg. "And while I suspect your father will want us at Court for Christmas, I think we will be allowed our freedom to do as we like."

"We will not be at Court for Christmas, or at least, I will not. I will be out to here," Mary said, stretching her arms out in front of her. "And the last place I will want to be is on display at Court."

Her husband smiled and put a hand on her small belly. "We will be in Suffolk for Christmas. I promise you."

Mary kissed his cheek. "You are the best husband in the world."

* * *

Chapuys found Charles with Meg and Charlie in the gardens after breakfast the next morning. It was the same garden where Charles had played with Mary the day that Henry Fitzroy was born sixteen years earlier. But that was not important. All that mattered that day was the future of the Brandon family.

"The Emperor wants me to speak with you about a betrothal between his son, Philip, and the Princess Margaret."

"No," Charles replied firmly. "She is two years old. We are not talking about this yet."

"Your Highness, with all due respect, royal engagements are often made when the involved parties are in their cradles. You saw how Princess Mary's life was."

"I saw that child betrothed to one person after another. In the end, she did not marry any of those men. The only man who has ever taken action to take care of her was me."

"It was not as though I did not care for her myself," Chapuys protested.

"That is true, but I am the one who took her away from her father's clutches."

"You were also the only person who had the power to do so."

Charles smiled. "I think that other people could have done what I did, but they did not."

"But you love her, Your Highness. You have always loved her even if you did not always love her as a wife. She has always been important to you, and because of that, you have always been willing to make sacrifices for her."

"She deserves it, and I want our daughters to have someone who makes sacrifices for them, not just someone who marries them because of their family or their titles."

Chapuys laughed. "And where will you find such men?"

"I know not, but I know that I want to find them even if I must search heaven and earth to find them. But regardless, I do not want to arrange anything between Meg and Prince Philip yet. My daughter is but two years old. I do not want to rush things for her. I want her to have a normal childhood."

Chapuys nodded. "I will tell my master, but I suspect that he will want to renew these intentions again in the future."

"Naturally," Charles replied, picking Meg up from a precarious perch on the edge of a fountain. "I can accept that. But I am not quite ready to see my youngest daughter betrothed."

Meg wrapped her arms around her father's neck and pressed her face against his, which made him laugh. He kissed her forehead and she kissed his chin.

"I will leave you with your children," Chapuys said, interrupting the pleasant scene. "I see the king coming."

"It was a pleasure speaking with you," Charles replied, looking up from Meg.

"The honor was all mine, Your Highness," Chapuys returned with a bow and then he was gone.

* * *

A moment, Henry was there, having come from the opposite direction. "Charles, Mary told me I could find you here," he said by way of greeting his friend.

"I thought that the children could use some fresh air."

The king nodded. "I found Mary and William with Katherine, so I asked where you and the older two were."

"We are having a venture," Charlie pronounced, standing on the edge of the fountain that Charles had grabbed Meg from only minutes earlier.

His grandfather smiled. "Are you going into battle?"

"No, we are going for a walk so I do not behave."

"So you do not misbehave, Charlie," Charles said softly. "We came out here so that you would not pester your poor mama."

"I do not pester! I just ask questions."

"A year ago, he barely said a word. Now, he never stops."

Charlie pulled on his ear and furrowed his brow. "I want to know."

Henry looked at Charles. "What does he want to know?"

"Everything," the proud father replied. "Some days, he wants to know where flowers come from. Other days, he has asked me where babies come from."

"And what do you tell him?"

"From Dod," Charlie said brightly. "Papa says that all things come from Dod."

"God," Charles said.

"I said Dod!"

"He has trouble pronouncing various letters of the alphabet," Charles told Henry.

"I can say God," Meg announced.

Her father kissed the top of her head. "I am very proud of you, my dear girl."

"I try to be good."

"I am dood too," protested the male twin.

Charles looked back at Henry. "There is a downside to having twins."

Henry shrugged. "I find that nursemaids are quite capable in handling these sorts of situations."

"Perhaps, but I find that a firm paternal influence also goes a long way."

A moment later, Meg planted a firm kiss on her father's cheek.

"And that, Henry, is why I will always hold firm to my belief in the value of taking an active role in my children's lives."

The king smiled. "She is but a girl and will grow into a woman. They are fickle and emotional beings."

"I will bear that in mind when my wife kisses me and tells me that she loves me before we go to sleep tonight."

Henry gulped. "I did not mean it like that."

Charles shrugged. "It makes no difference to me. It might to your wife, but my wife knows where we stand with one another."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"My wife knows that I do know think that she is fickle or weak."

"Why are you so hard on me? We are old friends."

Charles looked firmly at his father-in-law and friend. "I know that you can be a better man, a better husband, and a better father. You can be so much more than you are."

"I am the king. You will not say such things to me."

"I am not criticizing you as king. I am criticizing the way that you treat Katherine and Mary."

"They are women, Charles."

Charles sighed. "The Virgin Mary was a woman."

"I will not argue theology with you."

"This is not theology, Henry. It is a basic fact. The mother of God, like all mothers, was a woman. It is how life works."

Henry growled. "You are growing soft in your old age, Charles."

"My old age?" Charles repeated. "Your Majesty, I am merely thirty-five years old. I am younger than you are."

The king threw his hands up in the air. "Go talk to your wife, Charles. I do not know what to do with you."

"Papa, I love you," Meg said before kissing her father's cheek.

* * *

"I do not understand your husband," Henry said as he stormed into Katherine's sitting room.

"You do not understand yourself?" Katherine said without looking up.

"I thought Mary was here. I was talking with Charles and he was frustrating me."

"Mary took William back to their rooms a few minutes ago so he could take a nap."

Henry nodded. "I see. Well, I still do not understand Charles."

"He is a good man, Henry. What more do you want to know?"

"He criticizes me. He tells me that I do not treat you or Mary the way that I ought."

Katherine nodded. "I know that he feels that way. He has told me that before."

"Who does he think that he is? How dare he criticize me?"

"He is Mary's husband, Henry. He sees things differently than you do."

"That does not mean he has to criticize me for how I treat my wife and daughter."

"Your daughter is his wife. And I think you will learn that Charles has always been protective of Mary ever since she was an infant."

"I do not understand that."

Katherine shrugged. "He loves her."

"I love her too, but I do not feel a need to protect her at all times."

"You and Charles are radically different people."

"Everyone keeps saying that. I do not understand that statement."

"Then I cannot help you understand it. It is something that you must learn for yourself."

Henry gave his wife a look that was more than vaguely reminiscent of Hal's preferred pouting look. "I just want to know what the big difference between us is."

"I cannot explain it," Katherine replied calmly. "It is merely something that I see and understand."

"Well, whatever it is, I think Charles should mind his own business and focus his energies on getting his wife with child instead of worrying about how I treat my wife."

"Perhaps you should tell him that."

* * *

Three days later, Mary and Charles returned home to Suffolk. Charles told Mary, "We will stay here until after you give birth. Nothing but dire necessity could force me to return to Court before then."

Mary kissed her husband's hand. "Then let us enjoy the next several months in peace among our darling children."

* * *

A/N: Please review!


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: I don't own what you recognize. And I really appreciate reviews.

* * *

**September 1535**

* * *

After their return from Court, Charles and Mary found themselves falling back into the rhythm of their quiet life in Suffolk. The children, especially Eleanor and Frances, felt Katherine's absence keenly and openly expressed their dissatisfaction that she had not returned with Charles and Mary. "This is almost as bad as when Cate married Tony and moved away," Mary told Charles one night.

"Did you notice that Tony did not come to Court?" her husband replied.

"He stayed at home with Cate and baby Mary, which does make me proud of him," she began hesitantly.

"But that does not help you with the upset little girls."

Mary shook her head. "I am glad that Tony is behaving himself, but I would dearly like to know how to calm the girls down over my mother's unexpected departure."

"Tell them that she loves them and they will see her again, hopefully soon."

"I think they'll want to hear more than that."

"I think we can arrange for your mother to come visit us occasionally."

Mary stretched her arms and then leaned back against her husband's bare chest. "I would like that, and the girls would like that. Eleanor asked me today why her grandmother wanted to leave and if she had done something to make her leave."

Charles wrapped his arms around his wife, resting his hands on her belly. "I think that Eleanor has some recollection of Margaret's death. She was three when her mother died and I believe she has some vague memories of her mother existing and then leaving without explanation."

"What did you tell her when her mother died?"

"Bessie and Mrs. Hastings told Ellie and Frances that their mother had gone to heaven. I am not sure how clear that was to them. Frances was only a little over a year old and never really knew what had happened. But Ellie maintains some vague concept of Margaret even if she does not really remember her mother."

Mary nodded. "I want her to know that she is loved and that even though people might leave you in your life that does not mean that they are gone or that they did not love you. That is one thing that I have learned in my life."

Charles kissed the top of his wife's head. "I will never leave you until the day I die."

* * *

Charles resumed his attempts to educate his two oldest daughters upon his return. He knew that if his family was at Court, his children would have the benefit of highly trained tutors. His own education had largely been conducted under Sir Thomas More's careful eye, and he felt that he could teach his children quite capably-despite Henry's insinuations to the contrary.

And Eleanor and Frances seemed content. Eleanor informed her father one afternoon that "You are the smartest man in the whole world. No one else knows as much as you do."

"I think that there are people who are smarter and wiser than me," he replied with a smile.

"I have never met them."

"Do you remember Meg and Charlie's godfather, Sir Thomas?"

Eleanor raised an eyebrow and pressed her lips together. "I think so."

"He is much wiser than I am."

"I do not know if I believe you."

Charles smiled. "Go ask your mother."

"She might laugh at me," Eleanor protested.

"But she will give you an answer."

"Papa, would Mama lie to me to make you happy?"

Charles shook his head. "No, your mother is always as honest as can be with you."

"Then I am going to ask her if Sir Thomas is wiser than you," Eleanor replied before jumping off her chair and skipping out of the room.

After her sister left, Frances looked at her father. "Do parents ever lie to their children?"

"What do you think?" Charles asked, pulling her into his lap.

She shrugged. "You love me. You would not lie to me unless you needed to."

"And would I lie to you about Sir Thomas?"

Frances shook her head. "No, you are a good papa. You would never lie because lying is a sin and good papas never sin."

* * *

Eleanor ran into the drawing room where Mary was playing with the other children. "Mama, I have a very important question for you."

Her mother raised her eyebrows and nodded. "Yes, what is it, my dear girl?"

"Who is wiser, Sir Thomas or Papa?"

"What did your father tell you?"

"He said it was Sir Thomas, but I do not believe him."

Mary smiled. "I would have to agree with your father. He is an intelligent man, but Sir Thomas is extraordinarily wise."

"So you think that Papa did not lie to me?"

"I know that your father did not lie to you."

Eleanor smiled. "I knew that he loved me. Now I must return to my lessons."

And with that, she skipped out of the room while her mother laughed.

* * *

As September grew older, the weather grew chillier and the days grew shorter. And in London, Katherine missed her life in Suffolk. It was not that Henry was unkind to her, but there was something lacking from her life at Court. "I know not what it is," she confided in Chapuys one afternoon in late September. "But there is so much chaos and confusion here. I know that Henry intends to return England to the true Church, but he still keeps men like Cramner and Cromwell about him."

The Imperial Ambassador nodded. "I cannot tell you what is happening. All I can offer you is a listening ear and my sympathy."

The queen smiled. "And sometimes, that is all that is needed. To be honest, that is what I would appreciate from His Majesty."

"Do you love His Majesty?"

The queen stopped and looked at her companion, clearly startled by the abrupt question. "I do not understand."

"Forgive the bluntness of the question, Your Majesty. It is not my place to ask such a question. I do not know what came over me."

Katherine shook her head. "I do not understand. He is my husband. Naturally I love him."

Chapuys could not resist commenting on that remark. "After everything he has done to you, you still love him? You must be a saint."

"A saint, that is ridiculous. Henry is my husband and has been for much of my life. I cannot help but love him."

"He all but abandoned you for another woman."

"I could not give him what he desired."

"You loved him. And if he truly loved you, then that would be enough for him."

Katherine sighed. "You do not understand Henry. He is not like other men."

"You are right that I do not understand the king. All I know is that he has treated you ill and he still does not treat you as he ought. Meanwhile, the Prince of Wales clearly respects you and admires you. In his household, you are always treated with the respect and kindness that is due to your station."

"Charles and Henry are vastly different men."

Chapuys threw his hands up in the air. "That is obvious. You clearly love a man who is only interested in you because your daughter together has produced male heirs. I do not approve of that."

"Women do it every day. It is a natural part of the female situation in the world," Katherine replied bitterly.

"You are the daughter of Isabella of Castile. You deserve better than the normal female situation."

She sighed. "I am an old woman, Eustace, and I am well accustomed to the ways of the world. I know my place and I am content. I would only like to see Mary, Charles, and their dear children more frequently, but I also understand and accept the reasons for their absence from Court."

"But surely you want more than the marriage that you have," the ambassador protested.

Katherine shook her head. "I am married the man I love even if he does not love me. And I have my daughter and her family in my life. I am content."

"You deserve more than being content. You deserve happiness."

"Leave it, Eustace," she said. "It is much more complicated than the happiness of one old woman. It is about the fate and faith of a kingdom."

* * *

"Eustace, she is a married woman," Sir Thomas More said. "She has been married to the king for the majority of her life. He is the father of her only living child. This is her life. She cannot simply walk away from him."

"I want her to be happy."

"I think that, in an odd way, she is happy with the life that she has."

Chapuys sighed. "She deserves more than that."

"You think that. She does not. Queen Katherine is a strong, proud woman. She is the daughter of Isabella of Castile."

"Which is why she deserves more," the ambassador replied.

"Eustace, do you know anything about her parents' marriage?"

"They were the Catholic Kings. They were good and holy monarchs."

Thomas sighed. "Her father was unfaithful to her mother for the majority of their marriage. She is accustomed to this sort of thing. Kings are unfaithful to their wives all of the time. It is the way that things are."

"The emperor is faithful to his wife."

"Then he is a rarity among men since the emperor's own father drove his wife to insanity with his infidelities."

Chapuys nodded. "I realize that. However, I think that Queen Katherine deserves more than a throne and an unfaithful husband."

"And clearly she disagrees. You must accept this, Eustace."

"I do not want to do so."

"Regardless, Her Majesty has made her decision and you must accept that."

Chapuys sighed. "I do not like that idea, but I suppose it is, in reality, my only option."

* * *

"When did you and Ambassador Chapuys become so close?" Henry asked Katherine over supper that same evening.

"What do you mean?" she asked innocently.

"I heard that you two went for a private stroll in the gardens today." Jealousy tinged his voice.

Katherine shrugged. "He wanted to ask me how Mary and the children are."

"And how are they? Have you had a letter from them since they left Court?"

"I received something from Charles this morning."

"Oh, now you are corresponding with Charles?"

"He wrote to tell me that Mary is with child."

"Why did they not tell us this when they were at Court last week?"

Katherine shrugged. "Perhaps they did not know or did not feel prepared to make a public announcement just yet."

"Does the letter say when the child is due?" the king asked before popping a grape in his mouth.

"In the new year," his wife replied. "I believe they said February."

Henry nodded. "I hope it is another son. A third son would give us all a great sense of security about the future of England."

"I think that Charles wants another daughter."

"A daughter?" he repeated. "What would he want with another daughter? He already has two."

"Three," his wife corrected softly.

"There you are. Three daughters, what does he need with any more girls in his family?"

Katherine shrugged. "He has three sons as well."

"But only two of them are in line for the throne."

"Are not his three older children also in line for throne through their mother's line? Their mother was your sister."

Henry waved his hand. "I always forget about that."

"You might want to try remembering them more frequently. They are your nieces and nephew. And they are heirs to your throne, after your daughter and her children."

"I know that. I just did not remember it."

Katherine put a hand over her mouth to hide a threatening smile. After a moment, she looked levelly at her husband. "You might want to start remembering the names of our family members. I am thinking that we should visit Charles and Mary this fall before her lying-in as they will not be able to come to Court for Christmas."

"Surely Charles can come without Mary."

"He is capable of such an action, but he will not do it."

"Ah, the devoted husband, I was one once."

"And you could yet be one again if you so desired."

Henry took his wife's hands in his and knelt before her. "Catalina, surely you do not think so low of me that you do not see me as a devoted husband."

"You are loyal as far as I can see, but in all honesty, I sometimes envy Mary."

"Why should you have reason to envy our daughter?"

"Charles is utterly devoted to her. Despite the fact that they have been married for over three years, one might think he is still trying to woo her."

"Is that what you want from me?"

"I want to be loved!" Katherine found herself saying without hesitation. "I want to know that you would move heaven and earth to be with me if it were necessary. I want to know that I am loved and valued by my husband. I want to be the most important woman in your life."

"You are," he said softly.

"I want to know it, feel it, and see it. You were willing to display immense amounts of passion for Anne. All I want is one fraction of that passion. I want to know that you love me like you did when we were first married. I do not want to feel like a duty or a chore. I do not want to be second choice. I do not want to be lonely or empty or afraid anymore. And if you cannot help me, then I think we had better come to a more suitable arrangement for both of us."

Henry stared at his wife in silence until the one question slid from his lips. "Why are you afraid?"

"You left me once before."

"But I have taken you back. I have restored you to all that you once had. What more could you want?"

"You never get it. I want to know that you care about me. This is not just about Mary or her children or the kingdom. This is about us-you and me, our marriage."

"Katherine, what do you want?"

"Love," she replied. "It is all that I have ever wanted."

Henry looked at his wife and then down at the floor. "I do not know how to show you that I love you."

"Perhaps Charles could provide you with some basic tutelage. He seems to do a more than adequate job of showing his wife how much he loves her." Katherine's reply was cold and set, both in voice and visage.

Her husband shuddered. "Why does everyone think that Charles is the perfect husband? Do you not remember that I gave him permission to marry my daughter?"

"You gave him that permission only after he volunteered to marry our daughter so as to keep you from forcing her to marry George Boleyn."

"I would prefer not to remember or be reminded of some of my supposed mistakes."

Katherine smiled. "It is good to practice humility."

Henry had no response for that.

* * *

Life in Suffolk was far more peaceful than life at Court. More particularly, Charles and Mary's marriage was much calmer than that of the king and queen. This made everyone else's lives easier. The children, while high-spirited, were well-behaved. Meg and Bess were becoming fast friends and Bess had taken to sleeping in Meg's bed with her, vacating her spot in Mary and Charles's bed. And William had been moved into a room with Charlie while Hal had his own room.

"And we have peace," Charles remarked to Mary one night.

She smiled. "We have peace until February when someone else will come and intrude on our nighttime rest."

He put a hand on her belly and felt a gentle fluttering. "I do not think I should mind too terribly much."

Mary laughed and ran a hand through her husband's hair. "You have never seemed to mind in the past."

"And I do not intend to start minding any time soon."

"That is good because I intend to give you more children."

Charles smiled. "I have told you many times before that I want a large family. I would be more than content with more children."

"After all, the kingdom needs princes and princesses."

"I care not about that, Maria. All I want is a happy family."

Mary kissed the top of Charles's head. "Then make sure that our daughters know how to share."

He laughed and rested his head against her chest. "I am working on it. But it is a work in progress."

"Why do I feel as though it will be a work in progress for as long as they both live under the same roof?"

"Eleanor and Frances are two very different girls."

"Very different," Mary replied. "But I think that they love each other more than they would ever admit."

"All I want for any of our children is that they love each other. I do not care if any of them ever become the king of England or the Pope or anything like that."

"I would also like it if they were good people."

Charles smiled and threaded his fingers through his wife's. "I would prefer that to all other options. But do not tell His Majesty. I do not think he would look kindly on my preference for raising good people over raising kings and popes."

Mary laughed. "I will not pass such seditious information on to the king."

"And I will continue to raise our children to be good, loving people."

* * *

The next morning, there were seven children at the breakfast table after Mass and not all of them were being good, loving people. Bess, Meg, and William were quietly eating, but the other four children were being more difficult. Charlie and Hal were wrestling over their porridge while Frances and Eleanor were poking with one another and then complaining about the other one touching them. "She touched me!" Frances yelped. "Papa, make Ellie stop touching me."

Charles sighed. "Eleanor, stop poking your sister. And Frances, go sit next to your mother, far away from your sister. After breakfast, Frances, you will go practice your music with your mother. Eleanor, you will come have lessons with me. Then you will trade places after an hour."

"We are not being bad," Frances protested.

"Frances Brandon, move," was her father's only reply.

"Yes, Papa," she whispered meekly as she hurried to do his bidding.

Eleanor merely moved sullenly, making sure that her father could see how unhappy she was with his decision that she should move. Charles merely maintained a calm, steady countenance that demonstrated his desire for his daughters to follow his directions and cease their antics.

* * *

"I do not understand why it bothers you when I fight with Frances," Eleanor told her father when they were in his office a bit later.

"I want you to learn to love and respect one another. You are sisters, and you do love each other no matter how much you bicker. Also, you are the oldest children in this family and your mama and I would like you to set a good example for your younger siblings."

"But she started it," was the seven-year-old girl's protest.

"I care not about that. You are the older child and you can end it. You can simply ignore Frances when she is poking you."

Eleanor sighed. "But Papa, you were not there. She was annoying me."

"On the contrary, Eleanor, I was right next to you. I saw exactly what was happening. And I maintain that as you are the older sister, you need to try to be the better person. You need to set an example for your younger siblings. Your mother and I work hard to make sure that you and your siblings become the best possible people you can be."

"Mama is not my only mother. I had another mother before, but she went away. And then, you were very sad and not here often for a while. And then Mama came and you were happy again. You have been happier than ever since Mama came."

Charles smiled sadly. "You did have another mother, but she left us and went to heaven. And now you have Mama."

"And she makes you very happy."

"Yes, she does, but I loved my first wife as well."

"And you love me."

"Of course," he replied as he pulled her into his lap and kissed her head. "I will always love you."

"Good," she replied before hopping off his lap and returning to the chair next to him. "Also, I think I am too old for sitting in laps. I am seven years old now after all, and that is very grown-up."

"I feel old," Charles muttered to himself.

* * *

"Where is Thomas Boleyn?" Katherine asked Henry over dinner one evening in late September.

"Hever," he replied between bites of meat. "Why do you ask?"

"I have long felt that he was far more of a danger than his daughter was. While I know the Lady Anne to be securely at Kimbolten, I have begun to wonder where her father is and what he is doing."

"I banished him to Hever and stripped him of his titles. Beyond that, I could do nothing to him. He has committed no crime."

"Henry, do you really mean that? He manipulated you into thinking that our marriage was invalid and into what you now call a false marriage. Furthermore, he pressed you to crown Anne as queen with St. Edward's Crown while the rightful queen of England was yet living. That could be called treason."

Henry nodded. "I have thought of this idea. However, you must admit that Boleyn has many powerful allies at Court. I fear the repercussions if I act openly against him."

"You are the King of England. You broke with Rome. Why do you fear one man?"

"He has many powerful allies at Court."

"And you are the king. You can do what you want."

"You are correct," Henry said looking at his wife with an appreciative eye. "When did you become so wise?"

She smiled. "I grew up in the Spanish Court. I learned diplomacy from the cradle. My entire life has been spent in palaces listening to kings, courtiers, and diplomats and learning from them. People will say all sorts of things in front of a woman because she is only a woman."

"And you think that I can arrest Thomas Boleyn for treason? While I should like to do it, I doubt that I would have the support of men like Cromwell. And there are many at Court whom I believe would support Boleyn for various reasons of personal debts."

"Nevertheless, you are the king. I have always believed you to be the sort of king who did exactly as he wished without consulting the opinions of others."

Henry smiled. "So that is your opinion of me? You believe me to be arrogant and imposing."

"As a king yes," Katherine replied demurely. "But as a husband and father, I should like to think that you are more amiable."

"I do not understand why you disapprove of me so much."

"Henry, I love you, however, you have been unkind to me many times throughout our marriage. As I have told you numerous times in the past few weeks, I merely would like to know that I am loved and valued."

"Oh, Katherine, I do love you. I know that I have not always been the best of husbands, but I will ask Charles to teach me. I will go to Suffolk and speak with him."

Katherine smiled. "You ought to do this soon."

"I will go after the Michaelmas feasting ends. I wish that they would come to Court this week, but Charles says that they do not want to travel with the children or leave the children behind."

"Perhaps they will come next year," his wife replied placidly. "But I do understand how they feel about the children."

"I wish they would just bring the children to Court."

"I am afraid you will never convince Charles that is a good idea."

"But you could convince him," Henry persisted.

Katherine shook her head. "No, when it comes to his children, Charles's mind is unchangeable. He is a strong-willed man."

"I am well-aware of that. But I suppose that if Mary is anything like her mother, she will need a strong-willed husband to keep up with her own will."

"I think that Mary is of a milder disposition than either of us. However, Charles persists in reminding me that our daughter has inherited my Spanish pride."

Henry smiled. "I am sure he enjoys that."

"He says that he prefers it to Margaret's Tudor temper."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Katherine was not afraid. She had known Henry too long and considered herself too old of a woman to fear him. "Charles has merely observed during his long acquaintance with members of the Tudor family that your family tends to be a bit hot-tempered. And I must agree with him. I believe it stems from your grandmother."

Henry tilted his head and smiled. "I will concede that my grandmother was a difficult woman. However, I would like to think that I am much more rational than she ever was."

"I would disagree with that statement having been subjected to the rougher side of your temper on numerous occasions." She paused as her husband began to simmer, clenching his teeth and raising a hand in anger. "And do not strike me or yell at me, Henry. I am your wife. Striking me or yelling at me would not help our relationship at all."

Her husband pressed his lips together and nodded. "I will leave you now, my dear. I wish to look into the possibilities of having Boleyn and his son arrested for treason. But I will come to you tonight. I do not want you to be alone any longer."

Katherine nodded as Henry kissed her cheek. "I will accept your companionship but nothing more."

"Of course, my dear, I understand," was all he said before leaving the room.

* * *

That same evening, Charles and Mary had Bess sleeping in their bed due to a nightmare she had shortly after falling asleep. Things were quiet and peaceful. The children were gleefully looking forward to the next day's Michaelmas festivities. But they all were in bed, and so were their parents.

At some point after midnight, three men on horseback arrived at Suffolk Manor. One of them, Sir Thomas Cromwell, demanded to be allowed to see the Prince and Princess of Wales immediately. "I come from Whitehall Palace," he told a bleary-eyed Mrs. Hastings. "It is a matter of grave importance. It is both a family and state matter."

Mrs. Hastings nodded. "Go wait in the study there. I will summon Their Highnesses."

"Thank you. Could my grooms wait in the kitchen or someplace else away from the study, please?"

"Yes, of course," the housekeeper replied. "Would you like any refreshment while you wait in the study?"

"Some warm mead or wine would be much appreciated."

"Naturally, Grace will bring it to you after she takes your grooms to the kitchen." This statement was made with a nod to Grace, a quiet maid who was standing in the shadows and trying not to yawn.

* * *

Less than ten minutes later, Charles and Mary walked into the study wearing their dressing gowns. Immediately upon their entrance, Cromwell fell to his knees and said in a faltering voice, "The king is dead. Long live the king. Long live the queen."

"No," Mary said in a strange voice. "No, it cannot be. This cannot be true."

"But it is," Cromwell replied as he rose to his feet again. "Your father was murdered by Thomas Boleyn earlier this evening."

"How did this happen?" Charles asked as he guided Mary to a chair and then sat behind his own desk.

"Boleyn, using his connections at Court, gained access to your father's study and stabbed him while he was alone. He had been writing a letter to someone in Rome when he was killed."

"And where is Boleyn now?"

"In the Tower along with his son, George," was the quick reply.

"Where is my mother?" Mary asked. "Is she safe?"

Cromwell nodded. "I ordered her to be taken, by guards whom I know are loyal to her and to Your Majesties, to Greenwich Palace. I spoke with her only briefly to tell her that Boleyn had been arrested and I was coming to you. She was deeply saddened obviously but I believe that she looks forward to seeing Your Majesties as soon as possible."

"We will depart for London at first light," Charles replied. "The children will follow us soon after."

Mary shuddered. "How did this all happen?"

Cromwell shook his head. "Sir Richard Rich intends to begin an investigation with Your Majesties' permission as soon as possible."

"Of course," Charles said with a nod.

"I would suppose that you would also like to meet with King Henry's Privy Council upon your arrival in London."

"At Greenwich," Charles said. "I will go to Whitehall briefly to deal with affairs there, but for the next several weeks, I feel that it would be safer and more astute to use Greenwich Palace as our official residence. I do not want murder and blood haunting our minds as we begin our reign."

Cromwell nodded. "This will all be arranged. Is there anyone else that you want summoned to Court as soon as possible?"

"Sir Thomas More, Sir John Seymour, and Sir Anthony Knivert," Charles began. "I will give you a more complete list in London. I suspect that many nobles and such like will be coming to London of their own volition for the king's funeral and the subsequent coronation. Oh, and I should also like to have Reginald Pole summoned back from Italy."

"It will be arranged as quickly as possible."

"One more question," Mary said. "What news do you have of the Lady Anne Boleyn?"

Cromwell paused for a moment before replying. "Nothing as of yet, why does Your Majesty ask?"

"I fear reprisals against her by people who associate her with her father's actions," Mary replied calmly. "I think soldiers should be sent to guard her. Also, I would think it might be best to remove her from England for her own safety."

"I am sure that either the Imperial Ambassador or the French Ambassador could help us arrange something," Charles said.

"Everything will be done according to Your Majesties' wishes. Is there anything else we can arrange tonight?"

Charles shook his head. "Everything from here can be handled upon our arrival in London tomorrow. If you would like, rooms could arranged for you and your grooms for the night."

Cromwell shook his head. "I think we would do better to hurry back to London for the good of the realm. I will see Your Majesties in London on the morrow."

"May God grant you safe travels," Mary replied.

Cromwell thanked her before bowing and leaving.

* * *

"Why did this happen?" Mary asked her husband as they returned to their room to rest and prepare for their dawn departure for London.

"Your father should have dealt with Boleyn when he had the chance, but he did not. And now he must pay the price."

"Charles, I do not know how to feel about this. I do not want to be queen or for my father to be dead."

Charles pulled his wife close and kissed her forehead. "I know. Do not worry yourself overmuch, my dear. You have to take care of yourself and the child. God will be with us somehow."

"My poor mother," she said.

"I hope that somehow something good can come into her life from this situation, but she loved your father truly for so long. I do not want this to break her heart."

"I hope that she knew he loved her before the end."

"As do I," Charles replied. "But we will see her tomorrow and know then how she fares. For now, we can only hope and pray."

"We will have to decide what to do with Bess," Mary said, looking at the sleeping child in their bed.

"That can wait until tomorrow. I have a feeling that your mother might be more inclined to care for her than others might suspect."

"That could do great good for both of them."

"Tomorrow, a new world begins," Charles told his wife. "With the dawn, England enters a new age."

* * *

A/N: Please review.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: If you recognize it, I don't own it. And please keep reviewing! I love it. It motivates me and encourages me.

* * *

**October 1535**

* * *

Charles and Mary had found chaos in London upon their arrival. King Henry's death had, unsurprisingly, caused upheaval throughout the Court. The uncrowned king and queen were naturally determined to restore peace, order, and calm to the Court and thereby the country as quickly as possible.

Charles was never exactly sure how his wife did it, but there was something about Mary's presence at Court that brought peace to the bustling nervous crowds at Greenwich Palace. Perhaps it was the sight of the young woman, not yet twenty years old, with her children. Or it could have been seeing her with her mother, a reminder of the past and the promise of the future. It might also have been the gentle but solid swell of her belly, yet another sign of the future promised by the Brandon family. Mary laughed at that suggestion when her husband proposed it. "I doubt that seeing my waistline growing thicker or my bosom more ample provides people with as much comfort as you suggest."

Charles pressed his cheek against the ample bosom in question and smiled. "You are with child, Maria. You are the Queen of England, you have two strong, healthy sons as well as a healthy daughter, and you are carrying another child within your belly. After the turmoil of the succession during your father's reign, that is a comforting thought."

Mary looked around Charles's bedroom. "How did we get here? We are sitting in the king's bed in the king's quarters of a palace. A week ago, we were in a bedroom in a manor house in Suffolk."

"And now, the king's funeral is tomorrow, Thomas Boleyn is sitting in the Tower, and we are the king and queen, albeit uncrowned as of yet."

"Exactly," his wife replied. "How did it all come to this? How did God bring us here?"

Charles smiled. "I know not, but I can only think that this is the will of God and he has a plan for us and for England."

"That is what my mother keeps telling me."

"Your mother is a wise woman. But in all seriousness, how is she?"

Mary pressed her lips together sadly. "Her husband of nearly thirty years died in cold blood. She loved him dearly. I think that her heart has been broken, Charles."

"Ask her if punching Thomas Boleyn would help her."

'What are you suggesting?"

"I am going to see Boleyn in prison the day after tomorrow. Perhaps, your mother might want to come along and let Boleyn see and feel the pain he has caused her."

Mary shook her head. "Why are you going to see him? Is that safe?"

"I need to know who let him into your father's study."

"Sir Richard is conducting the investigation. Do not soil your hands with Boleyn's blood. And before you try to object, listen to me. I know you, Charles. My father was your friend from childhood. His death angers you. I understand that; it angers me as well. But what is it that you tell Eleanor and Frances when they were bickering?"

"One of them must be the bigger person and do the right thing even if they do not want to do so."

Mary nodded. "Be the bigger person. Do not sink to his level. If you must go see him, wait until after his trial. And whatever you do, do not kill him."

* * *

"What news do you have of the Lady Anne?" Charles asked Cromwell the next evening. The day had been quiet. Much of the Court had been at Westminster Abbey for the king's funeral while Charles, Mary, and their family had been grieving quietly in their quarters and praying for the soul of the departed king. But the king had been murdered and matters related to the safety of the state remained a high priority.

"She has been taken to Pontefrect Castle near York. Lord Thomas Darcy sends Your Majesty a letter informing you of her safe arrival there. He wishes to know your plans and intentions for her."

"Ambassador Chapuys has contacted his master seeking an Austrian or Spanish noble who would be willing to marry the Lady Anne. The French ambassador has done the same with his master."

"But you would prefer the Austrian or Spanish noble, I think."

Charles smiled bitterly. "I never know where England and France stand with regard to one another. And to be honest, I do not entirely trust King Francis."

"But you trust the Emperor?"

"More than I trust King Francis," was the royal reply.

Cromwell nodded. "I believe that King Henry had similar thoughts about the French king although I do also believe that he was often frustrated with the Emperor."

"Having known Henry for many years, he was often frustrated with someone who was opposing him on something about which he felt passionate. I heard rants over the years about the queen, Cardinal Wolsey, Sir Thomas More, and many other people. And I know for certain that he yelled at other people about his frustrations with me at various points over the years. He was a volatile man unfortunately."

"This is true," the secretary conceded. "May I ask what Your Majesty's plans for the Church are?"

Charles picked up a blood-stained piece of paper off the desk and handed it to Cromwell. "This is the letter that Henry was writing when he was killed. It is to the Pope. You may find it interesting."

"It is difficult to make out," Cromwell began.

"I agree, but I think that you can derive the general intent of the letter rather clearly." Charles's voice was thick and cold. He had not yet been crowned king, and would not be for a few weeks yet, but it was here, on the night after the funeral Mass of his predecessor on the throne, that he met his first challenge as king.

"He intended to return England to the Church of Rome."

"To the Church founded by Christ," Charles said. "You are, I believe, a Reformer. Your ideas and beliefs align far more closely with Luther's than with the Pope's, as I understand it."

Cromwell nodded slowly. "What will become of me? You are a Catholic. You never agreed with any of Henry's reforms as far as I can tell. And I know that the Queen and the Queen Dowager are both devoutly Catholic. So what will be my place in your new regime?"

"That remains to be seen, and I think that some of that decision remains in your hands. However, I will restore England to Rome. The dissolution of the monasteries will end immediately. Cranmer will be removed from his position."

"He is a holy man even."

"He declared my wife a bastard, Cromwell. I do not take such things lightly. Cranmer may return to Germany or wherever it was that he was prior to his friendship with the Boleyn family, or he may remain in England and see how I decide to treat those who acted openly against the true queen of England and her daughter. And remember, Secretary Cromwell, I too suffered because of my wife's supposed illegitimacy."

"That was because you chose to support her in spite of the king."

Charles sighed. "You have a wife. What would you have done if your beloved wife was suffering through no fault of her own but because of the ambitions and desires of others who cared nothing for her?"

"I know not."

"I hope, for your wife's sake, that you would act in a similar manner to myself if you ever found yourself in that unfortunate situation."

Cromwell found himself speechless at that and simply took his leave of Charles.

* * *

After Cromwell's departure, Charles went in search of his wife and found her in the Queen Dowager's rooms. "All of our children are in bed and at least pretending to sleep," Mary informed him.

Charles frowned. "But I wanted to see them before they went to sleep."

"Tomorrow," his wife replied tenderly. "You had important matters on hand and the children were yawning. So they went to bed and you will see them tomorrow and a thousand tomorrows after that."

"I fear that as king I will not have as many opportunities to see my children at bedtime."

"This one is still awake," Mary said, putting a hand on her belly.

Charles sat down next to his wife and put a hand on her belly. He was rewarded with a fluttering kick, which made him laugh. "This one is certainly of a lively disposition."

"Can that be any surprise given the babe's parentage?" Katherine asked.

Mary leaned her head on her husband's chest. "I think that you might need to look more to my husband than to myself if you are concerned about our children's lively spirits."

Charles wrapped an arm around his wife. "How can you say such things? You are not exactly known for your quiet, withdrawn nature yourself."

"I am, however, much calmer than yourself."

"That is debatable. However, rather than bickering, let us discuss more pleasant things. What sewing have you been working at?"

"New gowns," Mary said with a sigh. "I forever need new gowns between the babe growing within me and our new position."

"I suppose that is one of the difficulties of life at Court that we avoided in Suffolk. We could dress simply and no one cared. Now, we are always watched."

"Mary, you need not fear these people," her mother said. "You are the true Queen of England. You and Charles have two sons. Charlie will be the Prince of Wales and William the Duke of York. And your family continues to grow."

"But in Suffolk no one minded if I wore the same dress twice in a week. Here, everyone will know. And I need fancier dresses at Court than I did in Suffolk."

"I do not think that," Charles remarked.

"Not even for the coronation?" Mary asked.

"I suppose you ought to have a nice dress for that," he replied.

"Considering that I will resemble a small house at our coronation in a few weeks, I really will need a new dress."

"You will not resemble a small house."

"Charles is correct in saying that, Maria. However, Charles, in my experience, it is in her sixth month when your wife becomes great with child. The babe seems to grow quickly during that time."

"Until the sixth month, I merely look like I have been eating too much."

Charles rolled his eyes. "That is a point upon which I believe we will always disagree."

"But you will always think that I am beautiful and that gives me great joy."

"And more importantly, I will always love you."

* * *

Even before the October 21 coronation, it was clear that the tone of Mary and Charles's reign would be vastly different from that of her parents. Reginald Pole arrived in England on October 10. Two days earlier, Thomas Cranmer had informed Mary in a private meeting that he intended to return to Germany. "I believe that there is no way that I could coexist peacefully with Your Majesty," he told her. "Our politics and our theology are far too different."

"We would have been willing to work with you," she replied diplomatically, saying the appropriate thing. "His Majesty and I could have found a way to an amicable solution."

"Your Majesty is a Papist. I am not. There is no amicable solution to our problem. My own loyalties are too closely allied to the Boleyn family."

"Are you saying that you believe that Thomas Boleyn did the right and proper thing in killing my father?" she asked coldly, folding her hands firmly on her desk. She had learned some of Charles's tricks to diplomacy.

Cranmer took in a breath and pressed his lips together as he realized his verbal misstep. "That is not my intended meaning. However, I have been closely allied with the Boleyn family and their aims. In fact, I have frequently worked against the aims and desires of Your Majesty and your family. I feel that there is too much between us for a peaceful resolution."

Mary smiled slightly. "In that case, then His Majesty and I wish you and your wife all the best in your return to Germany."

"My wife?" Cranmer repeated. "I know not of what you speak."

"Oh come now, Your Grace. Surely you need not pretend with me. You cannot suppose that I am blind to the world around me or that I do not have sources that can see more than what lies easily at the view. I know that you are secretly married."

"And you will do nothing about it?"

Mary shrugged. "Go back to your own. Let us go our separate ways and agree only to pray for one another's souls."

Cranmer nodded. "As it please Your Majesty, I wish only the best for you and for England."

Mary nodded and smiled. "Thank you for your kind wishes. I hope that you find what you seek in Germany."

Cranmer left England with his wife on the same day that Bishop Reginald Pole arrived.

* * *

Mary's interview with Reginald Pole two days later was vastly different from that with Cranmer. Firstly, Charles was present, which meant that Mary could rely on him to support her. The meeting was also not as tense. Both Mary and Charles felt far more secure in their relationship with Pole. And because there were fewer theological and political differences between them, the atmosphere was far more comfortable.

Mary was not wearing black. Her mother had told her that while she might wish to show her mourning for her deceased father, she was the queen and therefore must set the tone of the Court. She had to bring the people hope-even in her clothing. So while her jewels were as simple as possible, her dresses were in warmer colors, with darker trimmings. For her meeting with Bishop Pole, she wore a light blue dress with black trimmings that she had worn during the months before William's birth. It was merely a convenient coincidence, or a fortunate blessing as Charles had suggested, that this dress was so appropriate to her current situation.

"So how are you two doing?" Pole asked. "I have not seen either of you in years. In fact, I think the last time I saw you, Queen Mary, you were but a little girl. And now you are a wife and mother, and the queen."

Mary smiled. "You have been gone from Court for many years. However, your dear mother kept me apprised of any news she has received of you while she was my governess."

"She did the same for me," the bishop replied. "However, after your marriage she did not have much information other than that which was general knowledge."

"I fear that after our marriage my duties as a wife and mother as well as those as Duchess of Suffolk took the time that might otherwise have been used for correspondence with friends and family."

Charles smiled. "It probably did not help that your mother sees me as some sort of a monster who will take advantage of my wife."

"I do not think she thinks that anymore," Mary said, squeezing her husband's hand. "But when we were first married, yes, she thought some terrible things of you."

"I do not believe that she ever thought terrible things of you," Reginald began. "But I do think she worried about your motives for marrying Queen Mary."

"No, she mistrusted him," Mary replied. "She told me that Charles would make my life very difficult and uncomfortable when we were married. Fortunately, she was wrong n that account."

Reginald laughed softly. "My mother is a typical mother hen. She is very protective of all her charges."

"And that is why she will be the royal governess for all of our children," Charles said. "But I would prefer that she be a bit more careful in her statement about me."

"Naturally," his wife said gently. "But with her and the children at Court, she will be under our eyes."

"But moving on to more serious business," Charles began. "The Archbishop of Canterbury has left his position and the country. England finds itself in need of a new Archbishop, a Catholic Archbishop. We believe that you would be the ideal choice for this office."

"If you accept it, we will ask the Pope for his approval," Mary continued. "However, I am fairly confident that he will accept you."

"I do have allies and friends in Rome who will back me," Reginald confessed. "And I think that Your Majesties are currently held in high favor in Rome and your proposals will be readily accepted."

Charles smiled. "That is good news. And we need good news."

"What news have you of the king's murderer?"

"Boleyn? He is scheduled to die a traitor's death alongside his son in two days. He was questioned and tortured before his trial, which was yesterday. And I would not be surprised if Sir Richard has invented a few more tortures for him before his execution."

"Is that just?" the bishop queried.

Charles shrugged. "I think not, but I also think that Sir Richard has found ways to take his frustrations over the death of his friend out on his friend's killer."

"In other words, while Rich and Boleyn were once allies, now Rich is willing to destroy Boleyn because he cared for my father," Mary stated simply. "It may not be morally just, but I think that Sir Richard feels that he can justify his actions before God in light of the fact that he lost his friend and his country lost his king."

"I think that is understandable," Reginald repeated softly. "In what manner will Boleyn die?"

"He will be drawn and quartered," Charles replied with a sideways look at his wife whose face was pale.

Mary knew that executions were a part of life, but she did not want to think about a man being drawn and quartered; it made her sick to her stomach. Perhaps it was partially due to being with child, but she also thought that while Boleyn deserved his fate, it was a horrible way to die. And perhaps it was because she knew that he had caused her father's death. Her father had died alone while the world would watch his murderer's death. And part of her wondered if that was fair. Part of her wanted Boleyn to know what her father felt during his last moments on earth; he had been writing a letter and had intended to go to his wife after his letter was completed. Instead, he was stabbed in the back three times and then left to die alone.

Reginald looked at Mary's pale face and smiled with the intent to offer her a little comfort; he hoped his smile succeeded. But she returned his smile and that eased his mind a bit. He could not imagine living her life. He would not want to be the monarch of England in such dangerous days. In fact, he would prefer to never be king at all. Being a bishop was enough responsibility for him.

* * *

"What news do you have of the Lady Anne?" Katherine asked Mary as they sat together on the eve of Thomas Boleyn's execution.

"She is well, I believe," Mary began softly. "And Chapuys believes he has found her a husband."

"Who has he found?"

"A Spanish duke," Mary replied. "I believe he is from Navarre, but I am not certain. However, he is interested in a wife who can give him an heir. And I hope that in a less stressful marriage, Lady Anne will have an easier time conceiving a child."

Katherine smiled. "One can only hope that her life will be easier now. She has a good heart, but her father has manipulated her and twisted her in unkind ways."

"Tomorrow she will be free of him forever. And she can start her life over again."

"What will become of her daughter?"

"Elizabeth will stay here with us. She will be raised with our children the way that Charles was raised with my father and his siblings."

Katherine noted that her daughter never called Henry anything other than "my father." There were not terms of affection. They were cold, disconnected words. But she said nothing. This was Mary's life, and she needed to let her daughter live for herself.

* * *

Charles watched Thomas Boleyn's and George Boleyn's executions from the Tower, unseen by the crowds. Sir Anthony Knivert was the king's official representative at the execution as Charles had once been for Henry. As king, Charles was not supposed to attend, but he wanted to see Thomas's last moments on earth with his own eyes and know that his friend's murderer was dead. The people might often forget this, but the king had a human heart. He could love and hate. He had desires. And Charles wanted to know that his wife would be at peace and her family would be safe.

In the past few days, Boleyn's accomplices had met their ends by means of decapitation. He had bribed three guards and four inconsequential noblemen at Court, people who would never have been noticed in order to gain access to the king. In fact, when told the men's names, Charles had barely recognized any of them. He had felt sadness towards their families upon their deaths, but he felt that they had met the end they deserved. Murder, especially murder of a king, was a horrible crime.

* * *

After the execution, Charles went in search of his wife. He found her in the gardens with their children and Bess. The sight of seven playful children and one pregnant woman brought a smile to his face and to his weary soul. And then Bess ran to him, crying "Papa, papa!"

Charles caught the small red-headed girl up in his arms and she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I love you," he whispered in her ear.

Bess responded by pressed a slobbery kiss against his cheek, which only made him laugh.

Upon his laugh, three more children came running over to Charles. Frances, Hal, and Meg were all seeking their father's attention. Meg flew at her father's leg while the older two were begging to be picked up. Charles laughed. "I would need at least eight arms to hold all of you. How do you expect me to do this?"

"I don't know, Papa," Frances said frankly. "But we just want to hug you. Mama says you have had a difficult day, so we want you to know that we love you."

Charles kissed his daughter's forehead and smiled. "Thank you, dear girl. I love you too."

"And me?" Hal asked.

"I love all of you. I love Bess, Meg, Charlie, you, Frances, William, Ellie, and your mother. I think all of you are wonderful."

Hal smiled. "We think you're wonderful too."

"You have to be wonderful because we're wonderful and so our papa must also be wonderful," Frances inserted.

Charles made a mental note that he and his wife would have to work on teaching Frances about humility. She would most likely marry a king or prince, and her vanity would need to be tamed before she married. But in the moment, he kissed her forehead. He had seen too many people lose family members in the past few weeks. The only he wanted to hold his family and let them know how much he loved them.

Mary walked towards him with Eleanor next to her and Charlie holding her hand. She was a natural mother, something that never surprised him but always gave him great joy. "How are you?" she asked over the heads of their children.

He shrugged. "I have been better, but in general, I am well."

"We will talk later," she said softly with a knowing look in her eye.

He smiled and nodded before saying, "Who wants to play a game of chase with me? You can chase me and try to catch me."

All the children responded eagerly. "I like this game!" Hal said, jumping up and down. "I like to chase Papa."

Charles laughed. "Then if Meg lets go of my leg and I put Bess down, then you can all chase me."

"But this is fun," Bess protested. "I am comfortable here."

"But we cannot chase Papa if he is holding you," Frances protested. "And we want to chase Papa."

Bess smiled shyly. "I will get down."

Charles put her down just as Meg let go of his leg. And then he said, "Are you ready?"

His children laughed as he began to run from them.

* * *

"I went to see him before he died," Charles told Mary that night when they were alone in their room.

"And what happened?" she asked, snuggling against his chest.

"He was what I expected. He was unrepentant. He said that his death was worthwhile because it had been in pursuit of power."

Mary shuddered. "Does he think that the pursuit of power is the ultimate good of the universe?"

Charles put his arms around his wife and pulled her a bit closer. "Boleyn thought ambition to be the ultimate virtue. He believed that power belonged in the hands of those best suited to wielding it and it was the duty of those persons to remove unsuitable people from power."

"I find that idea sickening."

"As do I," her husband replied. "But I told him what Sir Thomas has often told me."

"And what is that?"

"I told him that I believed honor to be the second highest virtue, second only to faith. And then I told him that if honor were profitable, everyone would be honorable. But since it is not a profitable resource, it is often cast aside in the quest for power."

Mary smiled. "What did he say to that?"

"He spat at me."

"A charming man to the last," Mary remarked. "But did the visit at least give you some sort of satisfaction?"

Charles nodded. "It reassured me that we are doing the right thing."

"And next week, we will be crowned."

"I still cannot believe this is happening. I was born without a title at all and now I am the highest man in the land."

Mary smiled. "And yet, I believe that you are worthy of the crown. I believe that God wills this otherwise he would not have brought us to this point."

Charles kissed the top of his wife's head. "I appreciate your faith both in God and in me."

* * *

**October 21, 1535**

* * *

Charles and Mary had spent the night before in separate rooms in the Tower. Lady Catherine Knivert and Lady Salisbury had stayed with the children back at Greenwich Palace while Lady Jane Seymour had gone to the Tower to stay with Mary and help her prepare for the next day. Charles had only Tony for company the night before his world was formally and officially changed.

But shortly after dawn, Charles and Mary met for Mass to begin their day. From there they began their journey to Westminster Abbey for their coronation. After that, there would be a parade through the streets of London and then a feast at Greenwich Palace.

"Darling, I am afraid," Mary whispered in Charles's ear as they climbed into the carriage that would take them to the Abbey.

He squeezed her hand. "I know. I am terrified, but you are not alone. I am right here with you."

She smoothed her cream dress over her swollen belly. "The babe keeps stirring within me. I think that she is nervous too."

"She?" Charles said. "So today the baby is a girl?"

Mary smiled. "Today yes, but tomorrow I may think I carry a boy."

"And we will not know for three more months."

"No, but yesterday morning, Frances told me it had to be a girl because she did not want anymore brothers."

"Was this just after William stole her doll?"

"No, it was after Hal pulled her hair."

Charles smiled. "This is why Charlie is our heir. He does not steal dolls or pull hair."

"No, he just chases his sisters around the palace and frustrates his parents and his governess."

The carriage began moving and Charles smiled. "Regardless of our children's behavior, now we shall smile and wave at the people."

* * *

Charles and Mary smiled and waved their way through the streets to Westminster Abbey. There, they were crowned by Bishop Pole. Charles was crowned with St. Edward's Crown while Mary was crowned with the same crown with which her mother had been crowned many years earlier. It was perfectly beautiful until only minutes before the ceremony ended, William decided that being held by the Countess Salisbury was not enjoyable and started crying for his mother.

Mary could see dignitaries shaking their heads and shuddering, but all she wanted was to take her youngest son in her arms and hold him. She could not imagine that he enjoyed being in a room filled with people making noise and stirring about. It was near the time of day when he usually took a nap. And it was entirely possible that he was hungry. She understood his sobs quite well, but there was nothing she could do for him.

Charles cast a glance at his wife and then at his son. He wanted to stop all the pomp and ceremony and go gather his son in his lap. He knew his wife wanted the same thing. Being crowned king decidedly had some negative aspects.

But instead, Salisbury carried William out of the church. However, he began struggling in her arms and somehow fought his way loose, only to begin running towards his parents at the front of the church and his parents. Laughter flitted through the assembled crowd as the little boy ran. Salisbury's laughter as well as the number of people between her and William kept her from being able to pursue the little boy, and he quickly made his way to his mother.

Mary laughed and scooped her son into her lap before saying, "Carry on, Your Eminence."

The bishop merely smiled and continued with the final prayer.

* * *

"But is their devotion to their children a sign of weakness?" Edward Seymour asked his brother later that day during the coronation feast.

Thomas shook his head. "Jane says that she thinks it is sweet."

"That is because Jane is a woman, but I want a man's opinion."

Thomas shrugged. "I do not think it is a sign of weakness. I think it is a sign of unity. It shows that the king and queen are united and of one mind. Their reign will be more peaceful than King Henry's. And I think that is a good thing."

Edward looked at the king who was talking quietly with Sir Thomas More and Sir Anthony Knivert. "I suppose you could be right about that."

"I believe I am."

Edward turned the topic suddenly. "They say the king intends to give Knivert an earldom."

"They are old friends. This is not truly a surprise."

"I am curious as to how power will be distributed in this regime. I imagine things will be vastly different than the previous king."

Thomas looked at the Brandon family's crest, the red Tudor red over a white dove with the Latin words "Verum honorem," or truth and honor, under them and then at the king holding Charlie, the new Prince of Wales, on his hip. "Vastly different," he agreed.

* * *

A/N: Please review. It isn't exactly where I intended to end it, but this is where it wanted to end itself. I think there will be probably two or three more chapters and then the epilogue.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: I don't own what you recognize. And thanks for all the reviews; you guys are wonderful.

* * *

Also, someone suggested some names for future Brandon children/the baby who will be born in this chapter. Firstly, Charles and Mary settled on names for this baby (Katherine or John) back in Chapter 14. Also, the children of the English monarchs must have English names; using Spanish names would have been highly controversial. The names that I could potentially use (beyond John and Katherine) are Edward, Thomas, George, Mary, Jane, Lucy, and possibly Caroline or Charlotte.

Also, per reader request, here is a breakdown of Charles's children with their ages as of December 1535:

Children with Margaret, the Dowager Queen of Portugal

-Eleanor (Ellie) 7 years old

-Frances 5 years old

-Henry (Hal) 4 years old (The current Duke of Suffolk)

Children with Mary

-Charles-Henry (Charlie) 2.5 years old (The Prince of Wales, formerly titled Duke of York)

-Margaret (Meg) 2.5 years old

-William 17 months old (The Duke of York, formerly titled Earl of Wessex, a title that will be inherited by the next son born to his parents)

Additionally, Elizabeth Tudor, the daughter of Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn, lives with Charles and Mary's family; she is about three months younger than Charlie and Meg.

* * *

**December 1535**

* * *

While Mary had once planned to spend Yuletide with only her family and without the eyes of the English Court upon her, as queen she could not do that. Her confinement was near, but it would not begin until after the Twelfth Night. Until then, she was on display to the world despite informing her husband that she felt like a barge.

"I am sympathetic," Charles replied. "Truly, I am, but I cannot change the situation. You are the queen and you must be at Court for Christmas even if you are great with child."

Mary put her husband's hands on her great swollen belly. "I know that. But feel this. The babe is forever moving and I do not get enough sleep. I wish there was a way that I did not have to be at Court for the next twelve days."

"After you give birth, I will make it up to you."

"Charles, your ideas of making it up to me will only get me with child again."

Charles laughed. "What would you prefer that I do?"

"Let me get a full night sleep after he comes."

"So today the child is a boy?"

"Look at me, Charles. I'm a barge; you could float me down the Thames with passengers aboard. How can I be carrying anything but a boy?"

Her husband wisely said nothing, but he leaned over her and began to kiss her, working his way up to her lips from her clavicle.

* * *

Cate was Mary's chief lady-in-waiting, a fact that gave both women great delight. While it meant that Cate and Tony would likely not have another child for quite some time, Cate was content. And her husband was, as far as anyone could tell, faithful.

Lady Jane Seymour was another of Mary's ladies-in-waiting and Mary instinctively liked the young woman. She was sweet and demure. And she was a willing playmate for the young princes and princesses who were often found in their mother's rooms.

On one such day during the Yuletide season, Mary was sewing with Cate, Eleanor, and Frances while Jane was playing with Meg and Bess-and the girls' dolls. "Lady Jane, you have gold hair," Meg pronounced.

Jane smiled and touched her hair. "Yes, I suppose that I do."

"I do not. My hair is not gold."

"But your hair is lovely, Princess. I love your curls."

Meg smiled. "I get them from my papa."

Mary laughed. "After all, her mother does not have curls at all."

"I did not know that the king had curls," Jane said lightly.

"He does," Mary said. "But because he has short hair, you most likely have never had cause to notice them."

"But Mama also has curls," Eleanor said. "And Meg has curls, but Frances and I do not."

"William has curls too," Frances inserted. "But Charlie does not. And neither does Bess. But she has red hair unlike the rest of us."

Bess looked up at Frances. "I like my hair."

"You have beautiful hair, darling," Mary told her.

"But I want curls like Meg! Curls are pretty."

"Bess, you have beautiful red-gold hair. I love your hair," Jane said soothingly.

Bess smiled. "I just want to be pretty."

"You are gorgeous," Mary told her.

* * *

**January 1536**

* * *

The Court made it through the Yuletide festivities and Mary entered her confinement. The Court was subdued without its lively young queen. The king had established himself as a firm man who was not to be crossed. While his queen was in her confinement, he worked hard, meeting with ambassadors and diplomats. In his free time, he lovingly visited his wife for long periods of time, spent long hours playing in the snow with his children, and patiently avoided the attempts of various families to throw their daughters at his feet as potential mistresses.

"I refuse to be unfaithful to my wife," he told Thomas More one afternoon. "And I do not want to hear about how taking a lovely young willowy maiden to my bed would ease my life. I am not unhappy. I miss Mary's company, but I know that she feels similarly."

"I am not disagreeing with you, but we both know that traditionally, kings take mistresses and everyone looks the other way."

Charles smiled. "I will not do that to Mary. I love her too much. And between you and me, Mary great with child is far more beautiful than their precious Jane Seymour will ever be."

Thomas laughed. "Spoken like a man besotted, but I understand the sentiment thoroughly."

"I know that Lady Jane has her admirers, but her brother ought to keep his ideas to himself. Yesterday, he told me that taking a mistress such as his sister would be for the good of the kingdom."

"It would likely benefit his family."

"But not mine," Charles replied. "And what harms my family has the power to harm the kingdom."

* * *

At some point before dawn on the twenty-fifth of January, Charles awoke to the news that Mary had been brought to childbed. "They say the babe is coming fast," his groom told him. "They do not expect it to be much longer before the child is here."

* * *

Sure enough, twenty minutes later, Charles met Tony Knivert in the hall. "My wife just sent me to fetch you."

"The babe is here?" the king asked eagerly.

His friend smiled. "The queen has given birth to a healthy baby girl."

Charles embraced Tony and laughed. "Another girl, God be praised; may I go see them now?"

Tony nodded. "That is why they sent me to fetch you."

Charles smiled and ran the rest of the way to his wife's room.

* * *

Mary looked exhausted but ecstatic when her husband entered the room. She was propped up on many pillows as she held the new baby. "Come here, Charles," she said upon seeing him. "You must meet the new Princess Katherine."

Charles sat down next to her and kissed her before even looking at the baby. Then, he took the child in his arms. "Another full head of dark hair," he said.

"That is no surprise given her parents and siblings," his wife replied, resting her head against his shoulder.

"And another large child, she reminds me a bit of William in that regard."

"The midwives were startled at how plump she is, but I am not at all surprised. She is very much like William."

"But she is a girl, a beautiful little girl." Charles looked tenderly at his wife. "Does your mother know yet?"

"I thought it better to let her sleep and we would give her the news in the morning. She seems much tired of late."

"Very well, but I want to be the one to tell her. Do not let the servants tell her. I want to see her face when she learns we named the baby after her."

Mary laughed. "I love you so much."

"Darling, I adore you. I cannot imagine giving birth to a child, let alone having done it three times now."

"The end result is well worth the pain," she replied. "And I imagine the girls will be glad to learn they have a new sister."

"And the boys will learn to reconcile themselves to her quickly enough."

"We can try to give them another brother soon enough."

Charles looked at her. "You just gave birth and you are already considering do it again."

She shrugged. "I am not suggesting that we do it next week, but I would be open to being with child again in a few months. We do not need to wait overmuch before conceiving again."

* * *

When the dowager queen awoke, she received word that the king wished to see her as soon as possible. "He is in your antechamber, waiting for you as soon as you are dressed," her maid told her.

"Mary must have given birth," Katherine mused.

"All I know is that the king is pacing back and forth in the room with a smile on his face."

* * *

"What did she have and what did you name the blessed babe?" Katherine asked Charles a few moments later.

"You have a new granddaughter whom we will christen as Princess Katherine," he replied with dancing blue eyes and a smile that threatened to consume his face.

The older woman gasped and embraced her son-in-law. "You did not have to name her after me."

Charles laughed. "Mary and I disagree vehemently with you on that score. And it is settled. Your granddaughter is named Katherine and we will not change her name."

"You honor me unnecessarily."

"No, Mama, we simply honor you."

Katherine smiled and kissed his cheek. "Thank you. Now, may I go and meet this new namesake of mine?"

"I thought you would never ask," he replied.

* * *

Katherine had tears in her eyes as she held her newborn granddaughter for the first time. "I never thought I would see this day," she told Mary. "I never thought I would see you married with children, let alone while ruling England as its queen. God has been very good to us and has blessed us abundantly."

Mary smiled. "Are you happy, Mama?"

"Ecstatic," the older woman replied. "You have given me so much joy that I never thought I would see in my old age."

"You are not that old," Charles said.

His mother-in-law shook her head. "I have four grandchildren. And I feel old, Charles."

"Nevertheless, I do not think you are old."

She waved a hand at him playfully. "Oh stop bickering with me and go get your other children so they can meet their new sister."

"Cate is already taking care of that," Mary said. "It is one advantage to being the queen. We have people to help us with such things."

"How are we going to differentiate all the different women with the name of Katherine around here?" Charles asked.

His wife shrugged. "We will decide as we go."

* * *

"She is so pretty," Eleanor said, looking at baby Katherine.

"Can we give her back?" Hal asked. "I wanted a brother."

Charles laughed. "No, we have to keep her."

"But Charlie and I told God to give us a brother."

"Henry, you ask God to give you things. You cannot presume to tell him to do," his mother said softly. "He decided to give you a little sister, so we will keep Katherine."

"Besides, your mother and I quite like little Katherine, so we will have to keep her."

"I like her too," Meg said, tracing the baby's face with her finger. "I like her eyelashes."

"They are beautiful," Charles agreed. "But be careful around her eyes. You do not want to poke her eyes."

"She is very small," Bess said. "Is she real?"

"All babies are small," Eleanor stated with the authoritative air of an oldest child. "But then they grow."

"What do they grow into?"

"People," was the flat reply. "You used to be a baby and so did William and Meg and Charlie and Hal and Frances."

"And you also used to be a baby," Charles gently reminded his oldest daughter.

* * *

**August 1536**

* * *

Life went on. Lady Anne Boleyn went to Spain in May of that year to marry the Duke of Pamplona. Then, Cromwell suddenly fell ill in July and left Court "until my health improves," as his letter to the king and queen explained.

The children grew by leaps and bounds. And the boys came to admit that they adored little Katherine who was a far more placid child than any of her older sisters. In fact, five-year-old Hal adored her so much that he was often seen trying to carry her around Whitehall, where the Court had reestablished itself after Easter. He was also fond of sitting next to her and telling her stories while she slept or watched him with bright blue eyes.

"You know," Charles told Mary one summer evening as they sat in a garden with their children. "In an odd way, he reminds me with you when you were a baby. Oh, I know that I was about ten years older than he is now when you were born. But his devotion to her reminds me of my attentions to you when you were an effort."

Mary smiled. "But he is her brother. You were merely a family friend, and on top of that, you were only sixteen. You had no reason to be so devoted to me."

He kissed her cheek. "I was enamored of you when you were a baby. You were a tiny little thing with these big beautiful blue eyes. You were like a little doll."

"Sometimes, I think that Bess thinks that Kat is a doll."

Charles laughed. "Sometimes even I think that our little Kat is a doll. She is quiet and sweet-tempered. Compared to her three older sisters who were all demanding infants, she is a dream."

"I think she realizes that she has seven older siblings, if you count dear Bess, and that she cannot be the center of attention at all times," Mary mused.

"That could be. I think she also has a very mild spirit, much more like her mother than her father."

"Charles, you amuse me."

He kissed her cheek. "That is my goal."

"Now to be serious," Mary began. "Have you received any news about Secretary Cromwell's health?"

Charles pressed his lips together. "I had a letter from his wife, but it seems that he is still rather weak. The physicians are not sure why he is ill, and so they cannot offer him much assistance."

"But why is he ill?" Mary asked. "He has always seemed so healthy."

"I know not. He does not have the sweating sickness or any common illnesses. But he has weakened considerably."

"Could someone be poisoning him? It seems logical that he would have many political enemies."

Charles shrugged. "It is a possibility, but it is also possible that he has some unknown illness. After all, if someone was poisoning him, you would think that it would have stopped when he left Court."

"I suppose that makes sense, but it worries me that he is in such ill health."

"I am of a mind to go and visit him. I would like to see him for myself and know how he fares."

Mary nodded. "I think that would be wise."

Charles looked at his young wife and said softly, "I will go see him tomorrow. I think this is urgent."

"Give him my regards," she replied gently. Then, she looked up at her husband. "I need to tell you something important."

He nodded. "What is it?"

"I am with child again."

He smiled and kissed her. "When did you discover this?"

"This morning, when the babe quickened," she replied. "I know it is not truly surprising and it is what we wanted. But I am still always a little surprised when I learn that I am with child."

"And are you happy?" he asked. "It has not been quite seven months since you gave birth to Kat. I could understand if you would have preferred to wait a few more months."

Mary shook her head and put a hand on her soft, round stomach; over the past year or so, Charles had noticed his wife's figure becoming fuller and rounder. "I love being a mother, Charles, and as odd as it sounds, I enjoy being with child. I want to continue growing our family. I know that Kat and this new baby will be very close in age, but I think that will be good for all of us."

* * *

Charles went to Cromwell at his country home. From the minute he entered Cromwell's sickroom, it was obvious that the man was seriously ill. "The physicians say something of his lungs," Gregory Cromwell told the king. "They seem to be weakened by something, but they know not what."

"Do they think he shall recover?" Charles asked with concern in his eyes and voice.

Cromwell's son pressed his lips together and took in a breath through his nose. "They speak hopefully but I see my father more than they do. And I think that he will not survive this. He is very weak and seems to be unusually tired. Even a conversation wears him down. Do you understand?"

"I do, but how did this happen? Your father seemed to be in excellent health until a bit before Eastertide."

"The death of King Henry was a shock to my father. He cared for the king and it hurt him to lose him. Then, he learned that his former friends and allies, the Boleyns, had murdered the king. It was a heavy blow. Do you see what I am saying?"

Charles nodded somberly. "I understand. And the climate at Court has been difficult to bear over the past year. I understand you, Gregory. Now I should like to see your father."

Gregory smiled. "I am certain that he will want to see you. He has been a bit nervous about your reaction to his illness."

"He need not fear. I know that illness happens to all of us."

"I am glad you think that, however, I believe that King Henry felt differently about things."

* * *

"Your Majesty, you did not need to come," Thomas Cromwell said when Charles entered his bedroom.

Charles put a hand on Thomas's shoulder. "Her Majesty and I are concerned about you."

"I am grateful for your concern, but you did not have to come see me."

"But regardless, I am here because I want to be here. I know that we disagree on many things, but I respect you and I wanted to see how you were with my own eyes."

"That is a great kindness from someone who has as many demands on their time as Your Majesty. However, since you are here, I should like to take this opportunity to tender my resignation from all my official duties."

Charles pressed his lips together. "I do not take pleasure from accepting your resignation, but I see no other alternatives."

"Appoint Sir Thomas More as my replacement."

"He would never accept that proposal. He desires a private life far from the politics of Court."

"I am not entirely sure who else I could recommend. I suppose there is always Sir Richard Rich, but he is a bit mercenary at times."

Charles smiled. "I value Sir Richard's skills as a lawyer and a prosecutor but I will be careful in giving him power. I do not always trust him."

"Ask Sir Thomas for his opinion. Perhaps he will have an idea for you."

"Of course, More is a wise man and a good judge of character."

"Then, seek his council. He is devoted to Your Majesty and your family," Cromwell said before a coughing fit overtook him.

Charles put a firm hand on Cromwell's shoulder. "I will leave you now, but I will ask your son to keep me informed about your condition."

Cromwell nodded. "Thank you. And please give my best regards to Her Majesty and the rest of your family."

"I will, and we will keep you in our prayers."

* * *

"Cromwell is dying," Charles told Sir Thomas More.

Sir Thomas shook his head. "He seemed to be so healthy until a few months ago. It is a shame to see his health fail so suddenly."

"His son believes it to be due to stress and shock from all of the events of the past year."

"I suppose that is logical, but it is all still distressing."

The king nodded. "It is. Nevertheless, Cromwell suggested that I ask you to recommend his replacement. And please do not suggest Knivert."

"But the Earl of Herefordshire is a good man."

"I know the Earl well, More. He will not make a good Secretary."

The older man smiled. 'You need a lawyer."

"Exactly and don't say Sir Richard Rich," the king replied. "Cromwell and I have already eliminated him from the list of potential candidates."

"A wise choice, but have you any other ideas?"

"I do not immediately. Perhaps you could think about it and give me an answer in a few days?"

"Of course, Your Majesty, it would be my pleasure."

* * *

"I simply do not know who would make a good secretary," Charles told Tony while they played cards a few evenings later. "I just do not know these sorts of things."

"Ask Queen Mary or perhaps the Queen Dowager; they might know."

"You are merely telling me that to avoid being distracted from our game."

The earl laughed. "Perhaps I am, but perhaps I am also saying this but I do not know these sorts of things either. I was always better at games than I was at politics."

Charles smiled. "Whereas my wife and her mother know politics better than cards, I suppose?"

"The Queen Dowager decidedly does. She has lived at Court for many long years and has knows well the way the English Court functions."

"And she is a wise woman."

"So ask her opinion but leave me out of it. I am but a simple fool."

Charles chuckled and shook his head. "I think you play the fool to avoid more complicated diplomacy."

"Perhaps, but I will never let you see the truth."

* * *

The next day, Charles found his mother-in-law strolling in the gardens with the Imperial Ambassador. The queen dowager wore a light blue gown and was laughing. She was genuinely happy, he observed. This was not the sweet contentment that he saw on her face when she was with his wife and children. This was pure joy, joy excited purely by her companion. It did not wholly shock him. He had long known that the Ambassador harbored feelings for the queen, and in truth, he did not blame the man. Katherine D'Aragon was a woman both wise and beautiful, and it made sense that a man such as Chapuys would be attracted to her.

But Katherine's attraction to Chapuys was a bit more startling. This was the woman who was always commenting that she was getting too old to be of significance to anyone. But now, here she was in conversation with Eustace Chapuys and what was more, she appeared to be blushing and giggling like a girl of seventeen.

Charles smiled and walked away. His conversation with his mother-in-law could wait-although he did need to make a note to have a private conversation with the Imperial Ambassador to sort a few things out, as it were.

* * *

Given the proper impetus, Mary could also be made to blush and giggle as a girl of seventeen, but she was far closer to seventeen than her mother. But in her husband's arms after all of her children were in bed, the Queen of England was not quite so royal and majestic as her subjects might think. "If the French Ambassador could see you now, he might not think you such a worthy adversary," Charles teased her, referencing the French ambassador's desire to push a betrothal between three-year-old Meg and the Duc de Orleans.

Mary giggled as her husband's lips worked their way along her collarbone. "The French Ambassador and I do not share the same relationship which you and I enjoy."

"That is a relief. I should hate to share you with any man but particularly with a Frenchman."

His wife laughed again and ran her fingers through his thick hair. "I could never share you. I enjoy being wholly and entirely yours."

Charles smiled and pressed his lips to her swelling belly. "And I am utterly content to be your husband and the father of your children. I would not trade this position for the world."

"And I would not trade you for the world."

The king rested his chin on his wife's belly and smiled. "You are so beautiful, Maria. Do you know that?"

She smiled. "Charles, I am becoming fat."

"I disagree."

"You are resting your chin on my belly. I believe that proves my point."

"You are with child, darling. Of course your belly is a bit larger than before."

Mary nodded and rested a hand on her husband's head. "I am larger than I was at this time last year when I was carrying Kat."

"Then you are carrying a son, and we will name him John."

"I hope that I am carrying a son and I should like to name him John, but I persist in thinking that I am becoming fat."

"If you must think that, then call it pleasingly plump for I am most pleased with your beauty and with the children your body has given me, my dear," Charles replied before silencing his wife's protests with a kiss.

* * *

**September 1536**

* * *

Cromwell died on the last day of August. He was replaced as Secretary and Lord Chancellor by William Roper, an action that had been proposed and championed by Queen Mary and not by Roper's father-in-law Thomas More. So Roper was knighted and his wife was appointed as a member of the Queen's household. Thomas More had been mildly amused by this turn of events, which he had not expected. Nevertheless, he saw the logic of the king's decision.

* * *

It was also in September that Charles sat down Chapuys and asked him about his feelings for the Queen Dowager. "I have noticed you giving my mother-in-law special attention and she appears to be enjoying said attention," he began.

Chapuys looked like a nervous adolescent being reprimanded by his father. He was older than King Charles, but the king was by far the stronger man.

The king continued. "So, as the head of the Brandon family and thereby the Queen Dowager's family, I ask you, Ambassador Chapuys, what are your intentions towards my mother-in-law?"

"I would like to marry her, Your Majesty," Chapuys said.

"And what of the Queen Dowager, what are her wishes?"

"I think that she is hesitant to marry again because of her previous experience."

Charles nodded. 'You must admit that is understandable."

Chapuys bit his lips and nodded. "I know that it is, Your Majesty, but nevertheless, I love her and I should like to make her my wife."

"Then you must speak with her and acquire her consent on the matter. You have my blessing but you will have to attain the lady's consent for yourself."

"If we were to marry, I think we ought to move out of England. It would be a conflict of interests for me to marry the Queen Dowager of England and live in England while acting as the Imperial Ambassador."

"You could also, potentially, resign your post as ambassador while still remaining in England with your wife. This would mean that my mother-in-law could remain near her daughter and our children."

Chapuys nodded. "That is a viable option. However, before I make any such plans, I need to gain Her Majesty's consent."

Charles smiled. "Then have at it, my friend. And let me know how it goes. All I want is for her to be happy, genuinely happy."

* * *

"My mother-in-law is getting married," Charles told Anthony Knivert and William Roper.

"To whom?" Tony spat. "I hold nothing against the Queen Dowager. She is a beautiful and intelligent woman, but who would marry the king's widow? It seems such a precarious notion."

Charles smiled. "Eustace Chapuys, apparently he has been enamored of her for years."

"You would let the Imperial Ambassador marry your mother-in-law?" Roper asked. "That could be a diplomatic nightmare."

"He has not actually asked her yet," the king replied. "He has merely obtained my permission, on the condition that he resign as Imperial Ambassador upon their marriage."

"When will he ask her?" Knivert queried.

"Soon, I hope."

* * *

Chapuys found Katherine in the garden with her grandsons that very afternoon. Little William, now two years of age, was scampering about with a stick while Charlie and Hal were playing at sword fighting with toy wooden swords their father had made them before his coronation.

Katherine's face lit up noticeably up seeing Chapuys, and he took this as a good sign. "How are you, my friend?" she asked. "Do sit with me. William is acting as my protector while his brothers play at being knights."

"The Duke of Suffolk and the Prince of Wales are dueling while the Duke of York defends the Queen Dowager?" the ambassador joked.

His companion laughed. "Despite their grand titles, they are merely normal little boys."

"You love them a great deal."

"Mary and her family are my whole world, Eustace. You cannot understand what they mean to me."

He nodded. "After all that you have endured, it is natural that you would feel that way."

Katherine looked at him strangely. "I have lost many of my loved ones over the many years of my life. I cling to those whom I loved and I would never suffer separation from them if I could prevent it."

"Would you ever consider a second marriage?" he asked.

"Another marriage, but who would ever want to marry me?" she responded harshly. "I am not a young woman. I am fifty years of age and I am the widow of the king. What reason would any man have for marrying me?"

"Love, the greatest of all motives," Chapuys replied firmly.

Katherine gave him another strange look. "Eustace, I know not what you are saying."

"I desire to tell you that I love you and I wish to marry you."

"You could find someone else to be a younger, more beautiful wife, a wife who could give you a family."

"You could give me a family, your family."

"You could get no children of your own from me, Eustace."

He sighed. "Katherine, I care not. Having you as my wife would be enough for me. All I want is you."

She blushed. "But I am old. I am no good to anyone except as a grandmother."

He smiled and took her hands in his. "You could be great good to me as a companion."

Katherine pulled her hands back. "We are friends, Eustace. Is that not enough for you?"

He shook his head. "I wish that I could say it is, but I cannot tell a lie to you. I find myself wanting more than just friendship. I want to marry you."

"You cannot marry me without Charles's permission, which he is unlikely to give."

"I have already spoken with him and obtained his blessing."

She sighed. "It seems you have an answer to each of my objections. I suppose I have no choice but to accept you proposal and agree to marry you."

Chapuys smiled and bent to kiss his lady's hand. But before he could touch his lips to her hand, he found two swords inches from his face and the young Duke of Suffolk asked, "Are your intentions noble or no?"

Hal Brandon may not have seen it as the most appropriate response but the only response his action received was laughter and kiss on the forehead from his grandmother. Meanwhile, the Duke of York continued to threaten the rose bushes with a stick.

* * *

"My mother is to be married?" Mary asked. "I did not expect this. That is, I am happy for you both, but I merely did not see this coming."

Katherine smiled. "I understand that. I did not see it coming either, dear heart, but the idea has become quite pleasing to me. I am eager to marry Eustace and begin my life with him."

"When will you two wed?" Charles asked.

"Not for some months yet," his mother-in-law said with a note of silence in her voice. "Chapuys must travel to Madrid to speak with the Emperor. He intends to resign his post as ambassador and bring his replacement back to England with him. He will not return to England until spring. Then we will marry after Easter."

Mary nodded. "Where will you live after you marry?"

"You and I will need to discuss that," Charles said. "I would like to establish them in one of our royal residences. We will have to discuss where we would like them to be."

"Of course, but we will have several months to discuss that," his wife replied. "For now, I think we merely need to celebrate my mother's betrothal."

Katherine kissed her daughter's cheek. "We do not need anything fancy, Maria. A small family celebration will suffice."

"Then that is what we will have," Mary told her mother.

* * *

"But how can our grandmother get married?" Frances asked. "She is old."

"You are so sweet and kind," Charles said as he rolled his eyes. "Frances, just remember that everyone has a right to happiness no matter how old they are."

Frances looked at her father who was holding baby Kat in his arms. "And if she married him, she will be happy? Do we not make him happy? I know the baby cries sometimes and Mama is going to have another baby who will just cry more. But surely Ellie and I are worth staying for?"

"She does not want to leave you, Frances. And I do not think that she minds crying babies as much as you do. But she loves Ambassador Chapuys and he loves her. So they are going to marry after Easter. It is not for many months yet."

"I will go talk to her and take care of things," Frances said before marching towards her grandmother.

Charles turned and saw his wife smiling. Mary put a hand on her husband's shoulder and said, "I think that, despite her quiet exterior, Frances has inherited the Tudor pride and its companion temper."

He shook his head. "Have I ever told you how glad I am that you did not inherit that pairing?"

"You may have mentioned it once or twice."

"Well then, please allow me to remind you again," he told her as he adjusted his infant daughter on his hip.

"How should you like to remind me?" Mary replied coyly.

Charles winked slyly before kissing her. When he pulled away from his wife, she was beaming with laughter.

* * *

A/N: Please review.

Also, just to clarify before anyone starts supposing anything in their reviews, Cromwell died of cancer. Mary's poisoning theory was only a brief supposition.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: I don't own what you recognize. And thank you for all my reviewers.

* * *

**March 1537**

* * *

Prince John was born on January 15, 1537. Four days later, the little boy who would be John's lifelong best friend, Charles Knivert, was born. Charles was the darling of his parents and older sister as well as his royal godparents and Ellie Brandon. Ellie, who was now nine years old, doted upon the little boy.

"Someday, Eleanor will make a wonderful wife and mother," Charles remarked watching his daughter with the little Charles Knivert. "Unlike Frances, I see her becoming an excellent nun."

"You do not see Frances as a good mother?" Mary asked her husband as she adjusted baby John in her lap.

"Heavens, no," Charles replied. "Unless we can tame that lass's tongue before she marries, she would make her husband regret the day he took his vows. I would much rather see her as a nun where the abbess might do something about her tongue and her pride."

"Perhaps you might find an abbey with a vow of silence for her?" the queen suggested.

The king laughed. "Perhaps I ought to impose a vow of silence upon the royal nursery."

"Such a notion could provide a worthy Lenten devotion, at least for Frances."

"But Lent is half gone already."

"There is always next year," Mary replied softly as she bounced little John on her lap.

Charles nodded. "Indeed, now I have another matter upon which I desire your council."

"And what is that, pray tell?"

"For the sake of my sanity in having her brothers at Court, Lady Jane Seymour needs to be married. I am forever hearing from her brother that I should take her as my mistress. And so, my estimable wife, I seek your wisdom."

Mary smiled. "There is always Sir Henry Norris."

"That is not something I would care to do to one of your favorite ladies-in-waiting."

"I have a wise husband. Let me think. Perhaps she could marry John More."

"I would have to knight him for the Seymours to accept it."

"And that would be difficult?" Mary asked teasingly.

Charles shook his head. "John, listen to me. You are the Earl of Wessex and people will expect certain things from you. However, some people, such as your mother, will tease you relentlessly to procure that which they desire. Learn to stand up to them."

"Who does Johnny need to stand up to?" Anthony Knivert asked as he approached the king and queen.

"His mother," the queen replied. "Or so his father would like you to believe."

Charles smiled. "Tony, you know my wife. Do you not agree that my son needs to learn to stand up to her?"

"She is the Queen of England, by blood. I must be aware of what I say; I cannot be treasonous."

Mary smiled. "Well said, Tony, I am glad to have your support even if my husband is a bit of rogue."

The Earl of Herefordshire shook his head. "I will leave Your Majesties to your own devices and try to avoid trouble."

Charles laughed. "A wise man, but he will never learn to take risks."

* * *

**April 1537**

* * *

Just before Easter, Chapuys returned to England with Ambassador Alejandro Lopez, a young but ambitious diplomat from the Basque region of Spain. "Keep your eyes open and befriend people who will talk to you openly and honestly. And trust no one," Chapuys told the younger man.

"But you are to marry the queen dowager? How can you do this if you do not trust anyone?" the tall, slender man with the eyes and the nose of an eagle asked.

Chapuys smiled. "With Her Majesty, it is different. I have known her for many long years and we have each earned the trust of the other. And with the current queen and king, I have known both of them for many years. In fact, I have known Queen Mary since she was a child."

"She is not, I think, so far removed from childhood?"

"She is twenty-one years of age and quite mature and wise for those twenty-one years. You will find yourself quite surprised in her, I believe."

Lopez nodded. "Do you have any other advice?"

"Be wary of anyone who wants to buy you."

* * *

"We have decided to give Richmond to you and Eustace," Mary told her mother on Easter evening. "It has belonged to the Crown ever since the trouble with the Boleyns. Charles and I think that it would be a comfortable home for you and Eustace."

"We do not need anything as grand as Richmond for only two of us," Katherine protested.

Her daughter raised her hand in a way that was more than vaguely reminiscent of Charles. In the past few months since John's birth, Katherine had noticed Mary assuming more and more of Charles's commanding presence. "This is not a choice, Mama. This is a gift. Charles and I have made up our mind to give you Richmond Palace as a gift and that is that. We want you near enough that the children can see you often but far enough away that you feel yourselves independent of us."

Katherine smiled and kissed her daughter's cheek. Then, she cupped Mary's chin in her hand. "You have grown up beautifully, my dear. Charles is fortunate to have you as his wife, your children have been given a gift to have you as their mother, and your people, the English people, have been given a gift from the hands of God himself to have you as their queen."

"I am only what I am because God gave me a mother who could teach me how to be all that I am and a husband who would support me and encourage me in all that I do."

* * *

A week later, Chapuys and Katherine were married in Westminster Abbey. Katherine wore a silver gown with ruby embroidery and beading. Mary and Catherine Knivert had made the dress together as a gift for Katherine. In her hair, she wore a wreath of Tudor roses from the gardens of Whitehall Palace. "You do not have to make it all so fancy, Maria," she had protested as Mary put the wreath on her mother's head.

"I was married in a plain blue dress that would travel well and with only some white roses that Charles happened to find in the Ludlow gardens the morning of our wedding, Mama. I am giving you the wedding that I always wanted."

"This is my third wedding, dear one. I have already had two fancy weddings with all the royal glory and splendor you could imagine."

"What did I tell you when you tried to talk me out of giving you Richmond Palace?"

"My daughter, you are scolding me as though you were my mother."

Mary laughed. "I will not yield on this. You will have all the beauty and glory you can have. It is what Eustace would want."

That silenced Katherine. While this was her third wedding, it was his first. She loved him and she would do whatever it took to make him happy.

* * *

Charles almost laughed at the smile on Chapuys' face when he saw Katherine. "The man is utterly besotted," he whispered in Mary's ear.

"Be quiet, Charles," she replied. "You are the king of England, and you have nine children. Behave yourself like a gentleman and set a good example for your children and your people."

"Bossy woman," he whispered in her ear.

She raised her eyebrows and turned her eyes towards the altar.

* * *

"How does it feel to be married?" Charles asked his new father-in-law after the wedding.

Chapuys laughed. "You have far more experience in that area than I do and can therefore provide a better answer as well as perhaps a bit of advice for a happy marriage."

"Flowers, honesty, and fidelity are the keys to a happy marriage. Also, agree with her as often as possible." Charles's last statement came as his wife came to stand next to him.

Mary put two soft white hands on her husband's dark blue sleeve and smiled up at him. "What were you just saying to my new stepfather about agreeing as often as possible, darling?"

The king smiled. "I was merely giving him advice for a happy marriage."

"Laughter," Mary said. "And find time to be alone just the two of you every day."

"That one is especially useful if you have several young children consuming your time and energy."

"I am certain that it would be useful even without all of the children in our lives."

Charles put an arm around his wife's waist and smiled. "It is delightful and so helpful to spend some time together every day that is just the two of us."

Mary leaned her head against his shoulder. Before she could say anything, her mother joined them. Chapuys immediately put a proud arm around his wife's shoulders and smiled as she rested her head against his shoulder. The wreath was still on her head and it was being mashed a bit, but Katherine seemed not to mind. And it was mashed a bit more as the groom pressed his lips against his bride's head.

"Your mother looks so happy," Charles whispered softly in his wife's ear.

Mary looked up at her husband. "I do not think I was that happy on our wedding day."

"No, but we had different reasons for marrying than they do. And now, you do seem quite content with our married life."

"I am thoroughly and entirely content."

* * *

**July 1537-September 1539**

* * *

In July, word came to England of French troops attacking the English territory on the continent and it quickly became clear that the king and the military forces must depart for France and war. With Charles in France, Mary was the sole ruler of England. Tony Knivert remained in England "at His Majesty's request, to aid Your Majesty in guiding our beloved England through what promises to be a dark hour."

A thousand times a day over the course of the twenty-six months that Charles was in France, Mary thanked God for Tony's calm willingness to listen when she needed a friendly ear and offer council only when asked. Katherine and Eustace, along with Cate Knivert, Lady Margaret Roper, and Lady Jane More, helped Mary with the nine children in her life.

Sir William Roper taught Mary more about being a lawyer than she had ever imagined wanting to know while his father-in-law taught her diplomacy. Sir John More, who had married Lady Jane Seymour in May of 1537, was in France with the army and the king.

Lady Jane found great comfort in the younger female members of the royal family. Between Meg's playful spirit, Bess's affectionate nature, and Kat's gentle grace, she always had someone who wanted to be with her.

What had begun as defensive military action quickly turned into full-blown war for France. Charles wrote to Mary when he could and sent messengers to her who could tell her and the Privy Council more than the written word could.

* * *

For twenty-six months, this dragged on. Battles and skirmishes across France. The war was fairly evenly matched during its first year, but during the fall of 1538, things took a turn in England's favor. Villages and towns across the north fell to English control. Then, with the entrance of Imperial forces into the war, southern France, which had not been prepared for an invasion, fell rapidly. The English king and the Emperor made a pact that they would take Paris together. It would be the last city to fall and the end of the war.

Paris fell in June of 1539. As the siege began, Charles of England and Charles of Spain agreed that Francis would not be killed. "The king must be taken prisoner. We want him alive," the English king told the joint forces. "And all members of the royal household, especially the women and children, must be treated with kindness and decency, with the respect due to them according to their station."

* * *

Four days later, on June 24-the feast of St. John the Baptist, the siege of Paris was completed. King Francis and his wife, Eleanor of Austria, along with the king's children were brought to the Kings' Camp where the king and the emperor awaited them.

Francis, dressed in clothes that were a tattered shadow of his former finery, glared defiantly at his two captors. He narrowed his eyes and sneered at the sight of King Charles of England. "Who do you think you are to take my country from me?" he asked in Latin.

"The anointed King of England," Charles replied steadily, also in Latin.

Francis rolled his eyes. "You were born of low blood and no title. What makes you think that God would ever want you to be the king of England let alone his precious and beloved France?"

"God seems to have given France over into my hands over the past two years," he replied. "Perhaps he no longer views you as a worthy caretaker of his vineyard."

Francis spat in Charles's direction. Charles merely waved a hand in front of his face, as if to clear the air, and then continued to glare firmly at Francis.

The Emperor made a tsk-ing noise with his tongue. "I would not do that if I were you, Francis. The Lord God may not look kindly upon you spitting upon the anointed King of England."

Francis spat again, but this time, his target was the mud at his feet. "If you bastards want my France, you will have to kill me first."

"Look at yourself, Francis," Emperor Charles said. "You are in chains. Your nation lies half in the care of my soldiers and half in that of England's. You have lost your nation. However, you can choose your end. Do you spend the rest of your life as guest in one of my prisons, in one of Charles's in England, or should I simply end your life today?"

"I would rather die than live as your slave."

"I can arrange that." As he spoke, the emperor's fingers traced the sword at his hip.

Francis's eyes flicked to the English king, who had a hand resting firmly on his own sword. "I want to be at the Emperor's mercy. I do not trust English mercy."

Charles of England bit back a smile and nodded. "As you wish, you are in the Emperor's hands. I claim only the right to half of your lands. The Emperor may have the other."

"You would divide my lands and my people?"

"That is the cost of war," was the clipped Imperial response. "You will live with it or you will die while your people endure it. It is your choice."

* * *

"We have won the war," Tony told Mary. "France has been ended. And Francis is the Emperor's prisoner."

"That will not last," she replied, looking up from her desk. "He has been my cousin's prisoner before and was freed."

"Charles tells us in this letter that Francis fears England's mercy."

Mary smiled. "As well he might, my Charles is a strong and decisive leader."

Tony smiled at hearing the queen speaking lovingly of her husband whom she had not seen in two years. "The king says he expects to be home by Michaelmas."

The way that Mary's face lit up at that news almost made the Earl of Herefordshire laugh. And when she snatched the letter from his hands, he did laugh. Her eyes seemed to be eating up her husband's words.

"Your Majesty misses the king," Tony said gently.

"More than words can imagine," she replied softly. "I miss him in so many ways and for so many reasons. I have not seen my husband in two years. Our children have not seen him in two years. John and Kat do not know who their father is. It breaks my heart. I know that they have Eustace and that is good. But I want them to have Charles. And then Cate gave birth to Edward last month. I am so happy for your family, but I want my family to have what yours has."

Tony pressed his lips together. He knew the king's absence was difficult for the queen, but he did not know if it would be possible to offer her comfort.

Before he could say anything, she looked up at him. "I should not have told you that. It was not proper of me."

He waved a hand. "Do not trouble yourself, Your Majesty. I know that this war has taken its toll on your family."

"I cannot wait to see Charles again."

* * *

**September 1539**

* * *

On September 2, 1539, Charles and the English army arrived in Dover where they found the queen and much of the English Court, including all of the king's children, eagerly awaiting them. Charles would later admit to his wife that he had tears in his eyes on seeing Dover's white cliffs.

But on seeing his wife slender and lithe in a red gown, Charles ran to her arms. "Dignity be damned," he muttered to Sir John More before rushing to his wife.

Mary's arms were open and waiting. She pressed her lips against his cheeks over and over again as tears ran down her face. "My Charles, my Charles, you are home again and now I am whole again."

Charles lifted his wife from the ground and held her to his chest. "You are my heart and my life, Maria."

"Now you need to see our children, darling. They have missed you."

"Even John and Katherine?" he asked with a teasing glint.

She bit her lip. "To be honest, I do not think they know who you are, but they have heard much of you from their older siblings. Eleanor has become a walking wealth of stories about her beloved papa."

Charles put his wife back on her feet and took her hand. "Take me to them. I have missed my little ones."

She led him to the children who were waiting from them. Eleanor, who was not so little anymore, was holding little John's hand. "Look, John, do you see Mama and Papa coming towards us?"

"Who is Papa?" the boy asked softly.

"Come with me," Eleanor replied. "You will love him."

Kat, on the other hand, was less hesitant than her younger brother. She turned to Meg and said, "Is that Papa?"

Meg, who was now a stately six-year-old, nodded. "Indeed he is."

At that, Kat broke free of her sister's hand and ran to her father who picked her up. She kissed his cheek and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Mary had tears in her eyes then. And just then, Eleanor led John towards them. He clung shyly to his sister's hand as she said, "John, this is our papa."

Charles handed Kat to Mary and knelt down at his son's level. "John, I know that you do not remember me, but I am your papa. I remember you as the small baby you were when I left two years ago. Now, you are such a strong, handsome little man. I am so excited to see you again. Shall we be friends?"

The little boy nodded slowly and let go of his sister's hand. Then, he put his arms around his father's neck. "Papa," he whispered as his father lifted him into his arms.

After that, all of the children, including Bess, surrounded Charles, attempting to touch him and get as close to him as possible.

* * *

The first night that Charles was home at Whitehall, all of the children wanted to sleep in their parents' bedroom. "We missed Papa," Eleanor told her mother. "We want to be with him as much as possible."

Mary smiled. "And where did the dignified Eleanor that I have known the past two years go? A month ago, I never would have been able to coerce you to keep me company at night."

"You see, Mama, then I had to be strong for you. But now I only want Papa to know how dearly I love him."

"Querida, he knows. Trust me."

"And you only want him for yourself because you have missed him so much these past two years."

Mary looked into her daughter's wise eyes. "You may not understand it today, but someday when you are a bit older, you will know how much I love your father and how desperately I have missed him these past two years."

"Then, perhaps, we children ought to give you tonight alone with Papa. But may we spend all day with you two tomorrow?"

"Yes," Mary replied.

* * *

"The children have consented to give us tonight alone on the condition that we spend all day tomorrow with them. And we ought to remain open to the possibility of allowing them to sleep with us tomorrow night," Mary told Charles.

He grinned. "I am glad for although I have missed them, I have missed you more. I have missed you so much."

"And I you," she replied. "But I must tell you that the birth of little Edward Knivert has made me want another baby. John will not let me hold him and cuddle with him anymore. He is too busy for his poor mama."

Charles laughed and pressed his lips against his wife's neck. "I will do my best, darling, but some times these things take time."

* * *

"England is at peace," Charles told his Privy Council a mere two days after his return from France. "But our territories in France need care and vigilance. They need a governor who can lead them and guide them in peace and security."

"The king and I wish to send a wise and capable governor, a man whom we trust to France," Mary added firmly.

Sir Anthony looked at his hands resting on the table. Then he looked up at the king and queen. Charles's firm blue gaze was fixed on him while Mary's soft blue eyes were smiling. France was his future. And Charles's next words confirmed this.

"We have decided to appoint the Earl of Herefordshire as the Governor of France. He will live there as our royal representative."

Tony nodded and smiled. "I will carry out your orders with honor and respect. I will teach the French a thing or two about the importance of dignity and respect."

Mary smiled. "We are grateful for your willingness to serve your country. We have decided that, if you desire, you may take your wife and children to France with you although we shall miss them if you take them."

"But I miss them if I do not," Tony replied with a smile. "And so to France we will all go as a family."

Sir John More smiled and Lord William Roper nodded. "The Court of England will miss the Knivert family, but you will be an asset to France."

"And my dear wife and Lady Margaret will be content to do what they can to fill the holes that the Countess of Herefordshire will leave behind," Sir John added.

* * *

**December 1539**

* * *

That Christmas was the merriest the Court had seen in many years. The queen was not with child. The king was at Court and not at war. The royal children were adored by all who met them. The Queen Dowager and her husband, the Earl of Richmond, were at Court.

"If Tony and Cate were here, it would be perfect," Mary told her husband.

"But alas, they are in France instead. They did, however, send us lovely presents for Christmas."

Mary smiled. "They even sent the children gifts. And Cate's letter said that they miss us dearly."

Charles squeezed her hand and pressed it to his lips. "I can imagine. I missed you desperately at this time of the year the previous two years."

"I know." Her words were meager but the look in her eyes said everything.

* * *

"You need to find Eleanor a husband," Katherine told Charles.

"She is only eleven," Charles replied, glancing at his daughter who was wearing a dark blue dress and dancing with eight-year-old Hal.

"Mary was supposed to be married by the age of twelve, and she was married at the age of sixteen."

"Mary was the Princess of Wales. Eleanor has four brothers and two sisters who are ahead of her in the line of succession. There is no need to rush her into marriage."

"Find her a husband, Charles. Trust me."

He sighed. "Mama, I am not ready to deal with my daughter being married."

She put a hand on his shoulder consolingly. "But that does not make her younger or any less of a marriageable prospect. Find her a husband, someone of whom you and Mary approve. Let the rest flow from that."

"Do you have any suggestions?"

Katherine shook her head. "No, but talk with your wife; she may have an idea or two."

Charles looked across the room at his wife who was having an animated conversation with Ambassador Lopez. He smiled. "My wife has more ideas than I had ever imagined she could. She is a wise woman and I am very blessed to call her my wife and queen."

His mother-in-law squeezed his hand. "When you two were married, I was skeptical of the arrangement, but now, I can see that you were the only man she ever could have married."

* * *

**January 1540**

* * *

"How is married life treating you, Mama?" Mary asked her mother one cold blustery day shortly after the Twelfth Night.

Katherine smiled without looking up from her sewing. "Eustace is the best man alive."

"I might be inclined to slightly disagree with you on that score, but I understand the sentiment entirely."

"Of course you would think Charles is the better husband, but I will agree that he is the best husband for you."

Mary smiled. "I know that I did not plan on marrying him, but he is better than anything I could have imagined as a child."

"And you have a wonderful family thanks to him."

That comment elicited another smile. "I love our family. I know that I have a big family, but I simply cannot imagine my life without a single one of those children."

"And you want more?"

"How did you know?"

"Maria, you are my pride and joy, but I would have given anything to have had more children. I am glad that you and Charles have been able to have five wonderful children as well as Bess and your dear aunt's children."

Mary looked at her mother suddenly. "Mama, would Aunt Margaret have approved of me as Charles's wife?"

Katherine stroked her daughter's cheek with a smile. "Margaret would have been thrilled to see Charles so happy. You gave him new life and you have done so much for her children. So yes, she would have approved of you. She loved you and she loved Charles. I am certain that she is smiling down on you and your family right now."

"And I think that my father is also happy to know that you have finally found someone to make you happy."

Katherine's hands retreated into her lap. "I am happy, darling. I never thought I could be this happy."

"And now you have Eustace."

"Not only do I have Eustace, but I can also see you with Charles and your family. All of that completes me."

* * *

**July 1540**

* * *

It was one of the hottest summers in living memory and by mid-June, the Court had left London. While decorum would have dictated that the royal family ought to go on progress or to one of the castles outside of London, Charles and Mary set off to Suffolk Manor. "We need peace and quiet," the king had told the Privy Council. "Visitors will of course be welcome, but we intend to spend the month of July primarily as a family in anticipation of the coming addition to our family in the fall."

Mary was, naturally, with child again and was expected to be brought to childbed in late October. Additionally, the Court expected to hear news of at least one royal betrothal before the year died. It was widely rumored that the king and queen intended to announce the betrothal of Princess Eleanor, who was a gorgeous twelve-year-old whose beauty was often compared to that of her mother, the Dowager Queen of Portugal. To whom she would be betrothed was unclear, but it was widely expected that she would either marry King Francis's youngest son. The notion of an unnamed Portuguese prince was also occasionally suggested.

But rumors of betrothals for Charles-Henry, Prince of Wales, and his twin sister, Princess Margaret, also abounded. Gossip largely held that Princess Margaret would be engaged to Prince Philip, the Emperor's thirteen-year-old son while Charles-Henry would be marrying one of Philip's sisters.

In Suffolk however, none of this mattered. Things were simpler there than in London. Charles chased his children around the house and threatened to throw his sons out the window. He tickled Kat and tried to help John beat William when wrestling. Mary wore the same gown three days in a row and no one commented. She let Charles help her undress in place of Lady Jane or Lady Margaret, both of whom were with their own husbands.

And on nights when her husband strolled into their bedroom, shirtless and unshaven, after having put Kat and John to bed, she knew that her mother was right. Charles was the perfect husband for her. And that made him the perfect king for England-although she would prefer that the rest of the country saw this side of their king.

* * *

A/N: So here's the deal. This was the last chapter. All that's left is the epilogue and then I can get back to messing around with Jane Austen.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed over the past five months. I appreciate the time you've taken to read my story.

For the last time on this story, I don't own what you recognize.

* * *

**Epilogue**

* * *

Charles and Mary ruled England together for twenty-five years. On July 6, 1560, King Charles I of England died in his sleep. He was sixty years old and left behind his wife, Queen Mary I, fourteen children, and twelve grandchildren. He was buried in Westminster Abbey, near the grave of his mother-in-law, Katherine of Aragon, who had died fifteen years earlier.

His wife died less than two months later, on August 29, at the age of forty-four. In the letter he wrote to his twin sister, Queen Margaret of Spain, King Charles II told his sister that "Mama died of a broken heart. It was too much for her to go on living without Papa. Frances, Hal, and I agree that while she loved us, our mother had little interest in living without her husband."

Hal, now twenty-nine, was the Duke of Suffolk and principal advisor of King Charles II. He had been married to Lady Mary Knivert, the daughter of Anthony and Catherine Knivert for nine years at the time of his mother's death. Tony had died shortly after his daughter's marriage, but he had lived long enough to see the birth of his grandson, Anthony. Catherine lived with her son Charles who had succeeded his father as Earl of Herefordshire and then married Lady Elizabeth More, the daughter of Sir John More and Lady Jane Seymour.

Eleanor had married for love at the age of eighteen. She had not married any of the men that Court gossip had expected her to marry. Instead, she married Philip, the Duke of Bavaria, who had come to England to woo her for political reasons but ended up converting to Catholicism out of love for his wife. Together, they had produced a family of five children whom they both adored.

Frances had followed her father's predictions straight to a nunnery at the age of sixteen-of her own desire.

Charles-Henry had married the only child of the King of Scotland, Mary Stuart. She was about nine years younger than him, but they had married in 1558, when she was fifteen and he was twenty-five. At first, she had been timid, but she had learned to respect her husband and his family. In March of 1560, she gave birth to a son whom they named Charles, in honor of his grandfather. He would one day grow up to be Charles III of England.

William, at twenty-six, was a priest and studying in Rome. The priesthood had been his choice. His father would have preferred a military career but William wanted to be a priest and a scholar.

Bess married Ambassador Alejandro Lopez. On the day of her wedding, she declared herself to be the most happy of all women. She and her husband had moved to Spain upon the death of Alejandro's elder brother, the Duke of Bilbao. It was there, as an adult, that Elizabeth Tudor met her mother, the Duchess of Pamplona, and began to know. While Elizabeth and Anne were able to be friends, Bess told Mary in a letter in 1557, "Anne gave me life, but you gave me joy. She is my mother, but you are my mama, the woman who nurtured me and comforted me. I consider her my friend and you my mama. Without you, I am nothing."

Kat had married a member of the Medici family at the age of nineteen. She informed her parents that she wanted to make a politically advantageous marriage and she wanted to live somewhere that was warmer and sunnier than England. Her parents' advisors found her a marriage in Italy. And her letters were always warm and cheery. "It is clear that having William nearby gives her comfort," Charles had once remarked.

John became a soldier. Eventually, he would marry and have a family, but that did not come until later in life for him. He lived at Court, entertaining his siblings and defending his beloved England. He was generally regarded as the merriest of his siblings.

After John, Mary and Charles had five more children, four daughters and a son. Prince Edward was the first child born after his father's return from France eventually became the Governor of France. This did not happen during his parents' lives, but Charles II had made that choice believing it to be something of which his parents would have approved. The fact that Edward married Lucy Knivert only confirmed this in Charles's mind.

In 1543, Queen Mary had given birth to a baby girl whom King Charles insisted upon naming Princess Mary. His wife insisted upon tacking Caroline after the Mary so as to make the little red-headed girl named after both her parents. Mary Caroline grew up to be smart and beautiful and "the most enchanting girl on earth," according to numerous people.

After Mary Caroline came Jane in 1545. Lucy was born in 1548. And Georgiana, a name Charles claimed to have invented, was born in 1549. She was eleven when her parents died, but her older siblings, especially Eleanor took care of her. She eventually married Nicholas Knivert and was considered to be the happiest of her siblings.

* * *

Under Charles II and his heirs, England flourished. He encouraged the arts and writers and playwrights such as William Shakespeare, Kit Marlowe, and Ben Jonson rose to national acclaim. Their works are remembered in the annals of history. He also encouraged the English exploration and colonization of the New World.

England never endured a civil war. The kingdom was largely peaceful from the end of Charles's war with France until the outbreak of World War I in 1914.

* * *

Charles and Mary were eventually canonized by the Roman Catholic Church for their devotion to their faith and their guidance of England during a difficult time. Sts. Charles and Mary of England are still revered by the English people to this day; they are the co-patrons of England alongside St. George. When Queen Victoria became the first monarch to live in Buckingham Palace, she ordered that a painting of Sts. Charles and Mary that had been painted by Hans Holbein during their lifetimes be hung where all visitors to the palace could see it. It remains there to this day. Historians agree that during their reign Charles and Mary changed the course of English history. Explanations vary, but the conclusion is that if Henry VIII had lived, he would have sent England on a dramatically different course. As one text said, "Who knows what would have become of England, but one thing is certain. The strong patience and firm hand exhibited by Charles I and Mary I freed England from the tumult of Henry. Their strong, devoted marriage and their love for their children encouraged their subjects…Their marriage also seems to have set an example for their fourteen children, each of whom went on to have a happy marriage and a stable family. In many ways, Charles and Mary could be seen as the first grandparents of Europe, a title that would later be claimed a second time by their descendent Victoria and her husband, Albert."

* * *

**The End**

* * *

A/N: Please review. I hope you've enjoyed this story.


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